


Long Before I Knew

by ilovenutella99



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: (begrudgingly), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Living Together, Mutual Pining, Roommates, Slow Burn, not a lot but like still angst, the gangs all here:, when more stuff happens i'll add more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-05-16 15:24:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 169,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14813954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovenutella99/pseuds/ilovenutella99
Summary: Clarke Griffin needs a new place to live after her lease is up. Bellamy Blake just happens to have an empty room in his apartment. She wouldn't exactly say that she's thrilled about the arrangement, but it's a room with a roof over her head. Surely, nothing will go wrong. Right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Okay so I've been working on this fic for around six months, and it's my actual baby. I've been super scared to post it mostly because I'm notorious for posting a multi-chapter fic and then taking months to update it (like, I once took 2 years to update a fic), but I finally did it! 
> 
> I have most of this fic written except for a few pieces in the middle-ish so updates should be pretty frequent, probably around once or twice a week, depending on how quickly I can get things edited. I'm not sure how many chapters it's going to be, but I would estimate around 25, but that could be really tentative depending on how much I try to put in to each chapter. I hope y'all enjoy!

“Okay,” Clarke starts, plopping down into her seat at the table. “I have a problem.”

“When do you not have a problem?” Raven replies, raising a brow at her. Clarke kicks her from under the table.

“I didn’t have a problem last week, thank you very much,” Clarke responds, and nods in thanks as Octavia slides a drink over to her.

“If I remember correctly,” Octavia starts, “a kid threw up on you four times at work and you complained about it endlessly.” That earns _her_ a kick under the table, and her friends grin.

The three of them were thrown together rather haphazardly their freshman year of college at Arkadia University. Octavia and Clarke were roommates in one of the shitty co-ed dorms on one end of the campus. They struggled to get along at first, just because they had grown up so differently, until one night both of them were absolutely hammered and ended up spilling their guts to each other. Clarke still remembers laying on the floor of their dorm room, drunk off of her ass, laughing about their shared misfortune. It’s honestly one of her fondest memories of her friend, and that was when they weren’t even really friends.

Raven came in like a storm neither of them were prepared for. She transferred in at semester of her sophomore year after completing a prestigious engineering internship in Seattle. After the transfer, Clarke found out that she was dating Raven’s boyfriend. This, obviously, caused some problems between the two, well, _three_ of them. After Raven found out that Clarke didn’t know that she existed, she was able to forgive her a bit. They ended up in three different core classes together the next semester, and Monty and Jasper attached to her within seconds, and the rest is history. They’ve stayed close, and she’s thankful for that. Clarke doesn’t see Finn anymore, but Raven sees him occasionally, as he’s the only person she has left from her life in Seattle.

And now, a year out of college they’re still as close as ever. They all stayed in Massachusetts for work and Clarke knows she’s lucky to have her friends close to her. Raven owns a shop downtown, Octavia works in physical therapy, Clarke works as a nurse at the hospital down the street from Octavia’s building. On top of the three of them, they have Harper and Emori minutes away from them and honestly Clarke couldn’t be happier.

Except when she has problems like this, which, unfortunately, happen far more often than they should.

“Is this one of those end of the world problems or something that we can fix with shots?”

Clarke rolls her eyes at Raven but takes a sip of her drink. “Talk now, shots later, definitely. My lease is up,” Clarke starts, “and Anya and I have not been getting along for the past several months and I really don’t think I can live there any longer. And it’s too expensive and I’m not close enough to the rest of you.”

“And this is a problem?”

The blonde makes a face. “The problem is that I have nowhere else to move into come June. And I don’t want to ask you guys because I know we would practically _kill_ each other if we lived in such close quarters again,” the two nod quickly, both making faces, and Clarke knows they’re thinking about when they lived together in the dorms for a year. They each had their own room and they loved living together, but it was still the most chaotic living arrangement she’s ever experienced. Friday nights were beyond brutal for them. “But I have nowhere to go. And I cannot live with Anya anymore.”

Her friends are quiet for a moment as they think. “What about Harper?”

“Emori’s already there. They only have two rooms.”

“I don’t think you want to live with Murphy.”

Clarke instantly shakes her head and takes a very long sip of her drink. “No, not particularly. I don’t necessarily think we’d get along very well. Love him, but, I bet he’d try to hang me at some point.” Raven snorts and Octavia chews her lip as if there’s something she wants to say, but also doesn’t want to say it. “You have an idea.”

“You’re not gonna like it,” she starts, but Clarke raises a brow. “Miller is moving out to move in with Jackson. That leaves an empty room at…”

Clarke immediately frowns. “We would rip each other to shreds in the first two days of us living together.”

“You give it two days?” Raven says, smirking. “I was gonna give it two hours.” Clarke makes a face at her and then shakes her head again.

“I cannot live with him, Octavia. He doesn’t like me and isn’t there some sort of rule about your friend living with your brother? Some sort of girl code bullshit we don’t pay attention to?”

Octavia shrugs and takes a sip of her drink. “He needs a roommate, you need a place to stay. It makes sense, Clarke. It’s not like you’d be attached to him by the hip.”

Clarke huffs and slouches in her seat. Octavia has a point. It’s just a place to live. And she’s always working, so it’s not like she’d see him at every waking hour of the day. She’s an adult, she’s fully capable of handling this like an adult. Besides, she can always spend as much of her time outside of work at Raven and Octavia’s or Harper and Emori’s. “You don’t even know if he would let me live there.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I already asked him.” Clarke takes a breath and then downs her drink. “It’s not like he’s just going to say no.”

“He might,” Raven snorts into her drink, “Clarke did throw a plate at him two weeks ago.”

Clarke groans and slouches even further down into the booth, “he provoked me!” He did! He just kept aggravating her about her bad day at work and finally she was done listening to it. So she _may_ have thrown a plate at him. Maybe. This is definitely not a confirmation of what she may or may not have done. She watches her two friends roll their eyes. “What?”

“You provoke each other, Clarke. If you stopped fighting for more than ten seconds I think you’d actually get along.” Clarke scoffs and shakes her head as Octavia’s phone buzzes. She watches as her friend opens and reads, and then grins. “Well, you’re in luck, he must be feeling agreeable tonight because he said you’re welcome to the extra room. As long as you pay rent.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “of course I’m going to pay rent, I’m not an animal.”

So that’s how on the first of June, Clarke’s moving into Bellamy’s apartment.

And the chaos immediately commences. First it starts on the day that she moves in, when he gets mad at her for leaving a couple boxes in the living room that she forget were there. Then it’s later in the evening when she leaves her shoes in front of the door and he trips over them. And then the next morning is an all-around nightmare when they both have to get up and go to work.

“Don’t leave your dishes in the sink,” Bellamy grunts as he steps around her to grab his coffee.

Clarke hates it when her shifts start in the morning. She’s never fully awake until ten o’clock, which is never good for a nurse who’s on call for eighteen hours. Something crucial could happen in those first four hours and she would miss it because she’s still half asleep. So she doesn’t hear Bellamy’s words because she’s half asleep.

“Hey,” he snaps, “listen to me.” Her eyes jerk up and he scowls. “Don’t leave your dishes in the sink.”

Clarke nods tiredly, pouring her coffee into a travel mug, “I’ll clean it up when I get back.”

“It’ll be moldy by then,” he grumbles, his eyes narrowing. “I’m not going to live in this sloppy mess if you—”

“Are you calling me sloppy?” Clarke responds sharply, her eyes finally opening fully. “Forgive me for moving in yesterday and not having time to really get settled.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes and yanks on his jacket. “You could wash your dishes. It’s not that difficult to be a neat person. I’m not going to do it for you.”

She grips her mug tightly and swallows down her arguments. “I wasn’t expecting you to. I’m just saying that I’ll do it when I get back.”

“You’ll forget when you get back,” Bellamy gripes, grabbing his keys and his wallet, “do it now.”

Clarke knows she should wash her dishes. Logically, it makes sense. But, she’s being illogical right now because all she wants to do is make him angry. So she ignores it, which will surely come back to bite her in a few hours. “I’m running late. I’ll do it when I get back.” Bellamy looks like he’s going to start arguing, but she really is _kind of_ running late and has to go.

When she gets home the next afternoon, there’s a note on the counter from Bellamy. _Do your damn dishes_. Clarke scowls. He’s really gonna be the kind of roommate that leaves passive aggressive notes all over the place. She crumples it into her fist and bites the inside of her cheek until it bleeds. Part of her wants to leave the dishes there, just to spite him, but she knows she can’t. She would like to make it out of this living arrangement alive. And proving their friends wrong would be a bonus. They all have bets on how long it’s gonna last. Monty was the gracious one and gave them the whole year, but Murphy gave them two weeks. She’s just gonna have to make due. Because she would love for Murphy to shove it.

* * *

 It all comes to a head the next week. Bellamy’s already been having a horrid day. His car nearly broke down in the school parking lot, his students don’t know how to structure a basic essay, and now he’s locked out of his damn apartment because he locked his keys in his car. Honestly, fuck today.

So now he’s sitting on the ground by the door because his spare keys are in his room and he can’t get into his room because his keys are locked in his car. And now he has to wait for Clarke to get home and who fucking knows when she’ll get home because it’s Clarke. Bellamy can practically feel his annoyance growing more and more as time ticks by.

Finally, after what feels like hours, her car pulls up. And then it takes her a few minutes to get to the door and he can practically fell his irritation radiating off of him in angry waves. She’s digging in her bag as she rounds the corner and stops short at the sight in front of her. And then guess what she does? She fucking _grins_. Her brows are high on her forehead and she’s stopped on the top step. “Don’t,” Bellamy warns, finally standing up and crossing his arms over his chest. Clarke continues to stare at him, an amused smile on her face. “Open the damn door.”

“I think I’m going to remember this moment,” Clarke muses, finally stepping forward to the door of their apartment. “Who would’ve thought you needed _my_ help?”

“Open the door,” Bellamy grumbles again and Clarke smirks.

“The day that Bellamy Blake needed my help,” the blonde says, stepping closer, and he can feel his annoyance shift to anger. “Never thought I’d see it.”

Bellamy’s jaw ticks and she only shines with amusement at his predicament. “I have work to do.”

“Say you need my help and I’ll open the door,” Clarke says, jingling her keys in her hand.

This is the last thing he wants to do. But he’s gonna have to suck it up because he has abysmal papers to grade and he damn well can’t do that on his front step. “I need your help,” Bellamy grits out, his nails digging into his palms.

Clarke grins triumphantly. “Ha! Okay, now I’ll open the door.”

“About damn time,” Bellamy spits, tripping over the shoes that Clarke just took off. “Dammit. Don’t take your shoes off right by the door. Someone’s gonna fucking trip over them.”

“Someone like you?”

And that’s enough to set him off, because with the stress he’s under for finals and the amount of shit he’s been through today, he really cannot take her teasing and chatter. So he tosses his backpack onto the chair and runs his hand through his hair before turning to her, anger filling his chest quickly. “That’s enough. Sorry that we don’t have maids here, Princess, but when you live on your own and don’t have your mom’s money to do everything for you, you gotta clean up after yourself.”

Instantly, he knows it was the wrong thing to say. Her eyes flash and her lips part as if he’s slapped her. Then, she presses her lips together and her face goes red like it does when she’s pissed. “Clarke—” Bellamy tries to say, but she holds up a hand and closes her eyes for a moment.

“Don’t,” she growls, her piercing eyes finding his and Bellamy wants to _cower_. “You know I had no control over that. You don’t get to pull that card. Absolutely not. I thought you were over that. I thought you were _better_ than that!” Clarke swallows and Bellamy immediately feels immense shame because he is better than that. He is over that. He goes to say something, but she shakes her head. “I don’t want to hear it right now. I’ve been at work for forty-eight hours and I’m going to sleep. Don’t bother me.” She’s about to turn but then her jaw tightens and she stomps around him to grab her shoes. “There. Hope you’re happy. I’ll be my own maid since apparently that doesn’t happen here!”

“I’m—”

“Save it,” Clarke huffs, before she stalks back down the hallway and closes herself into her room. He hears the lock click into place, effectively shutting herself away from him.

Bellamy presses his fingers into his eyes and lets out a sharp breath. He knows that was the wrong thing to say. He shouldn’t have gone there. No one ever goes there with her, and he did.

Clarke and her mother have always had a complicated relationship. Bellamy knows this because he’s heard extensive rants from Octavia about Abby and how certain situations were handled in the past. The most prominent situation, and the one that he unfortunately brought up, was the one about Clarke’s money.

Clarke and Abby went through a rough patch a few years back when Clarke found out specifics about her father’s death. Abby was somehow mixed up in the middle of it and Clarke was livid. They didn’t speak to each other for a year, and Clarke didn’t accept any help that Abby offered: money, living arrangements, school payments, nothing. She was determined to do it all on her own, and she did it.

It wasn’t until Wells died that Clarke finally cracked and went to her mother. Since then, they’ve been fixing up their relationship and it’s going really well, according to Octavia. So Bellamy bringing up a really rough time in Clarke’s past certainly can’t do much to help their obvious disdain for each other. It’s definitely not doing anything to help their living situation, as she’s most likely still seething in her bedroom.

So yeah, things are going great on the roommate front. It’ll be a miracle if they make it even a few months.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here's chapter 2! I look forward to hearing what y'all have to say!

Bellamy steps into the diner to find Murphy already sitting in their usual booth in the corner. Murphy tips his head at him and Bellamy collapses into his usual seat. “Long day?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Bellamy scrubs a hand over his face as a waitress comes over to take his order. The guys have been coming to this diner for ages, so most of the staff knows them and is more than happy to take a few minutes to sit and talk. Tonight, it’s one of the original owners of the diner, and she smiles happily at Bellamy as he orders a beer and a burger.

Ever since school started up again he hasn’t had a lot of time to see his friends. Sure, he sees Monty and Jasper at school, and he sees Octavia and Raven pretty regularly, but he hasn’t seen Miller or Murphy since the weekend before school started.

Bellamy and Murphy make idle chitchat about what’s been going on recently. Murphy’s just launching into a story about how Emori tried to convince him to steal a car when Miller and Jackson and Monty and Jasper show up. The four of them fling themselves into their seats as Murphy stares at them.

“About time,” Murphy grumbles, scooting a bit so Monty and Jasper can sit comfortably.

“We got held up, traffic was miserable,” Miller gripes, shaking his head. “I don’t know why they gotta do construction on every fucking highway at once, but—” Bellamy chortles. It’s always something in this city. Last year they were doing construction at the high school, this year it’s on every highway. He can’t seem to get away from it.

“How’s school, man?” Miller asks Bellamy after ordering his beer and a side of cheese fries.

Bellamy rolls his eyes and groans. “My students are either idiots or geniuses. There’s no in between. I don’t have a clue how I’m gonna get through the year.”

Miller shrugs a bit, “I don’t have a clue why you picked _high school_ of all places. Still don’t fucking understand it, they’re gremlins, that’s what they are.” Bellamy snorts and takes another drink of his beer.

“They’re not all bad,” Bellamy tries to say, but then Monty stops him with a raised hand.

“Yesterday one of my kids singed off his eyebrows using the Bunsen burner,” Monty deadpans and Jackson chuckles. “I’m not saying they’re idiots, but they’re idiots. Love my job but high schoolers are weird.”

Jasper nods in agreement, “one of mine wanted to know if he got hit by a car if the physics of it would be enough to send him to the hospital to get out of school.” They all stare at him and Jasper continues abruptly, “he didn’t say that to me, but I overheard him saying it to his friends. The humor these days is—” Jasper searches for the right word. “Different.”

“Tell me about it,” Bellamy replies, “it’s all self-depreciating. I know I’m a self-depreciating humor kinda guy but they’ve got me beat. They keep talking about jumping off of the bleachers to get out of practice and I’m sitting there thinking if it’s so bad why are you doing it?” Monty and Jasper snicker and shrug. Despite how much time they spend with high school students, they’ll never understand their minds.

Miller’s cheese fries arrive and Bellamy tries to reach for one, but Miller slaps his arm. “Are you paying for them? Didn’t think so.” Jackson, however, Jackson gets to eat the cheese fries and Bellamy goes to protest. “Are _you_ my boyfriend? Didn’t think so. Not that I don’t love you, Blake, but—”

He flips him off but grins at his friend. It’s been a long time since Miller’s been this happy in a relationship. And if he lets his boyfriend take his cheese fries, then you know he’s smitten. This must be a big deal. It’s very rare that Miller shares his food. “How’s the apartment?”

Both of them beam and Murphy rolls his eyes but listens to Jackson jumps into an explanation about how Miller keeps the apartment freezing all of the time. Miller tries to counter the argument by saying that Jackson nearly managed to set the apartment on fire with the stove the other day, so his freezing thermostat is valid. “Just in case you set spaghetti on fire again.”

“A cold apartment isn’t going to stop a fire, Nate!”

“It can damn well try,” Miller replies, grabbing a bit of cheese fries before turning to Bellamy. “How’s is going living with Clarke?” And then Bellamy groans and all of his friends raise their brows at him. “Trouble in paradise?”

Bellamy makes a face and reaches for his beer. “It was hardly ever paradise.” It’s been a couple months since Bellamy slipped up and made a comment about Clarke’s wealth and her mother. A couple of the cold shoulder from Clarke, which he knows he deserves. It also seems a little excessive, but he knows that she can hold a grudge because she’s stubborn as a mule. She didn’t talk to her mother for nearly a year after her father died. He hardly speaks to her, and it’s gotten to the point where he speaks to her less than he did before they were even living together. It’s been two months and they already hate each other more than they did before this started.

And it's not like it's gotten easier now that they aren't speaking to each other. She still sometimes forgets to move her shoes out of the way of the door. He's still left a couple post-it notes on the counter reminding her to do something, and he knows that it pisses her off. He knows that nurses are busy and he recognizes that, but he also doesn't really understand how she can be so busy to forget to clean off her dishes and put them away. Part of him feels guilty about the maid and money comment because he _knows_ he was out of line, but she's gotta clean up.

It's just a lot different than it was living with Miller. Whom he misses very much right about now. 

“Bellamy fucked up,” Murphy tells the group and Bellamy sighs. “Go ahead, tell the story.”

So Bellamy tells the story and by the end of it Monty’s pressed his fingers into his temples. “Honestly, Bellamy, I think you’re lucky she hasn’t killed you.”

“Yeah,” Jackson agrees quietly, “and she’s a nurse, so she knows how to do it correctly. She could dismember you in your sleep. Or drain all of the blood from your body. Or by lethal injection. Maybe she’ll electrocute you.”

Bellamy grimaces at the possible options for his imminent death as Miller speaks up. “Y’know, I bet she’d be the one to kill you, and then pin it on someone else. She’s super smart like that, she’d get it figured out before we even knew you were dead."

“Harper and Clarke _have_ been binging Criminal Minds,” Monty adds thoughtfully, tapping his chin. “The people who write that show have to have the most twisted minds, I think it’s corrupting them both. She could definitely take a leaf out of that book and have you dead by morning. The possibilities are endless.”

“Thanks for the support, you _assholes_ ,” Bellamy spits, taking a long drink from his beer. It’s not even like he wanted to make her angry, it just kind of happened. Well, that's a lie. He likes to rile her up. It's amusing and watching her get all flustered is hysterical. But he didn't mean to make her _this_ angry. He assumed that after a couple days she’d cool down, but obviously that’s not in the agenda. Two fucking months.

Their burgers get delivered and they spend the next few minutes in silence as they dig in. Bellamy’s measly lunch of a sandwich and an apple is long gone and he devours his meal. Miller’s the one to speak up again. “I know you don’t want to apologize, man, but I think you’re gonna have to.”

Bellamy raises a brow and Monty gives him an apologetic look. “He’s got a point. Living in a hostile environment like that until next June can’t be good. One of you will kill the other before the year is up if you don’t truce.” Monty takes a sip from his cup and looks back up at Bellamy. “I really do think if you just tried to be friends you would be.”

Now Bellamy snorts, shaking his head. “Doubt it. We’re two completely different people.” Monty and Jasper exchange a look but Bellamy can’t decode it. They're always doing that, looking between each other and having a conversation. For once, he'd love to know what they're thinking. But logically he knows that they’re right. On the truce thing, not on the friendship part. There’s no way that he and Clarke will ever be anything more than cordial roommates. It just seems impossible.

* * *

 

Clarke’s making some macaroni and cheese, which is technically the only thing that she can cook, when Bellamy gets home. It’s not horribly late for a Thursday night, but considering she just got home from work it feels like time is an illusion.

She stares into the pot to avoid looking at him. It’s not like she’s intentionally been trying to avoid him, she’s just... intentionally been trying to avoid him. He said some things that he shouldn’t have and honestly, she’s not really eager to rehash it all out again. It’ll only end up in a fight and she’s not in the mood or the mindset to argue with Bellamy right now.

Part of her wants to sit down and try to fix it and be polite to each other, but the other part never wants to talk to him again. What he said _hurt_. It took Clarke a really long time to come to terms with the fact that she would always have more than her friends did. None of their other friends hold it against her, in fact, Miller is the same way. His father was the head of the mayor's security most of their childhood, and yet it's only Clarke that Bellamy takes it out on.

It's not that she's ashamed and embarrassed of how she grew up. It's quite the opposite. She loved family time with her mother and father and the Jaha's, until Wells moved to Europe for school. She loves her parents and where she grew up. She just doesn't understand why it tends to be a point of Bellamy's anger. She never did anything to him (the plate doesn't count, that was his fault), and he just loves to aggravate her in any way he can. Clarke knows that there's a reason why, he just never finds it necessary to share it with her. And why would he? It's not like they're friends. But Clarke would love to know why he picks on her like this.

“Monty and Jasper say hello,” Bellamy says gruffly as he drops his bag by the couch. Clarke tips her head into a nod and yawns, thinking about her two friends. Such oddballs, but such good people. She misses them. “They wondered when you were going to kill me.” She can’t stop herself from snorting. “I assume you have a plan for it,” Bellamy continues lightly, filling up his glass with water.

“Maybe,” she finally responds, dry. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“If I’m gonna die, I’d love to know when. I can put in my two weeks.” Her eyes narrow at him. Almost two months of limited to no communication and now he’s actively trying to be friendly again. Granted, she hasn’t exactly been the pinnacle of friendship, but it’s still setting her on edge. She continues stirring her pasta as he passes around her to get to the fridge. “Look,” Bellamy says, and Clarke raises her brows, peeking up slightly.

“I know what I said was shitty,” he starts, rummaging for something in the fridge, “and I’m sorry. I know better than to go there, and I shouldn’t have said it.” An olive branch. She meets his eyes fully and finds something that resembles sincerity. She can never be too sure with him. She doesn’t quite know if this is a trap or not, but she’s skeptical. “I know you don’t rely on your mother’s money because you’re perfectly capable of doing things on your own. So I’m sorry, and I won’t go there again.” It doesn’t seem like a trap. 

Clarke tips her head to the side and processes his words. He’s apologizing to her. That’s a first. But he’s trying, and she knows that she has to try too. She wasn’t innocent in that situation. “I forgive you,” Clarke manages, taking the pot off of the burner to drain it. “I’m sorry, too. I was antagonizing you and I wanted to piss you off with what I said.” Her olive branch to him. He takes it, thankfully, nodding a bit as she speaks. “I’m still gonna remember that you needed my help oh so _desperately_ , but I apologize for making it worse.”

“I forgive you,” he echoes, the corners of his lifting upwards to resemble something of a smile. “As long as you don’t murder me.”

Clarke huffs a bit and rolls her eyes. “You won’t even know it’s coming.”

* * *

 

It’s been a week since the two of them decided that a truce was going to be necessary if they were going to live together. They still don’t interact much, partly because they’re adults and have jobs, and also because they don’t really want to get to the point of screaming at each other again. So they’re _mostly_ civil towards each other, but she still wouldn’t consider them friends. Allies, maybe, but not friends.

Currently, Clarke has been trying to fall asleep for the past two hours. Every time she gets close enough to dozing, the stomping from the upstairs intensifies. She doesn’t know what the hell is going on upstairs, but it’s setting her on edge. Her anger is growing by the second and finally, right as she thinks it’s gonna stop—

Stomp, thump, _stomp_. The loudest stomps yet.

She’s out of bed in seconds. The door across the hall flies open at the same time and Bellamy looks as livid as Clarke feels. They’re both obviously exhausted and fuming which is surely not a good combination. Someone is going to _die_ and it’s going to be the idiots upstairs. “This is fucking ridiculous,” she spits, storming out into the hallway. “It’s two o’clock in the morning on a Wednesday night! Are they herding elephants upstairs? Wearing lead toed boots? Hosting the national bowling championship? Whatever it is, it needs to not be happening!”

“Every adult has work in the morning. What the hell are they doing?” Bellamy responds, glaring up at the ceiling with daggers in his eyes. The stomping gets louder and Clarke shakes her head and goes to the kitchen to dig in the pantry. She’s too worked up to think about the consequences of her next action. “What the hell are _you_ doing?”

She produces a broomstick and stalks back to the living room, where the stomping is loudest. And then she proceeds to slam it into the ceiling repeatedly with as much force as she can muster. “Trying to get them to shut up,” Clarke hisses.

“It’s not going to work!” Bellamy groans back, rubbing his temples. “They only moved in two weeks ago, we don’t want to piss off our new neighbors!”

“Bellamy it’s two o’clock in the morning and I have to be at work in three hours. Where I will be on call for _three days_. I’m gonna piss them off.” Clarke is not someone you want to wake up in the middle of the night. Especially when she has work the next day and her job requires her to be fully awake at all times. The stomping gets harder and that’s _it_ , she’s had enough. “That’s it!” She throws the broom onto the ground, angrily stuffs her feet into her rainboots by the door and storms out of the room.

“Clarke, what are you—”

“I’m telling them to shut up,” she calls back as she quickly takes the steps in the stairwell by two.

“Clarke—”

But it’s too late, she’s already knocking on the door. It takes a couple seconds, but then the door opens quickly and Clarke is met with a man behind the door. He’s definitely college aged and Clarke nearly scowls at the realization. This only means the stomping won’t stop after tonight. Great! Love it! He looks at her for a moment, his eyes sweeping up and down her body and with a shock she realizes that she’s only wearing one of her father’s old flannels and a pair of shorts. But she’s pissed enough that the man quickly gets back to her face. “Can I help you?” The man finally asks and she tightens her jaw.

“Hi. Yes, you can. I live below you and I don’t know if there are elephants up here or not, but your stomping has woken me and my roommate up and we both have to be at work in the next three hours. I would really appreciate it if you could keep it down a bit,” she manages calmly, despite stewing about it only seconds before.

The man stops and grins a bit. “I mean, you’re welcome to join us if that’s what you want.” He tries to wink at her but Clarke only scowls at him. She’s practically seething.

“That’s not what I want,” Clarke grits her teeth, trying to regain a bit of composure, “I want it to be just a little quieter, please. That is all I want.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he responds and she huffs. It’s not the answer she wanted, but it’s what she’s going to get. Stupid college kids.

“Thank you,” Clarke finally says, and goes to turn around. Before she can get too far, the man swats her ass. Before she can even think she’s turning back around and— _smack_! Her hand tingles as she fumes. “You were raised poorly,” she deadpans. She’s shaking with some sort of anger mixed with pride and power.

The man looks at her as if she’s psychotic and presses his hand to his cheek. “Crazy bitch,” he huffs out.

Clarke shrugs and raises her hands, smiling sickeningly sweet at him. “At least I don’t harass women. Have a good night. Keep it down.”

Bellamy, who she didn’t realize was still there, instantly comes forward to usher her away so she doesn’t do anything else to damage their relationship with the neighbors. He’s obviously struggling to keep his mouth shut. “Control your girl, man!” The neighbor shouts and Bellamy just scoffs and the two of them hurry down the stairs.

“What the fuck, Clarke?” Bellamy asks, but it’s not malicious. There’s a hint of pride in his voice that she did _not_ expect. “Now you’ve really ruined it with them.”

“I wasn’t just gonna let him do that!”

Bellamy raises his hands in defense. “No, I’m glad you did it. They won’t fuck with you anymore,” he says, shutting the door behind them and locking it.

“They better not. I’ll send Raven after them next,” Clarke murmurs, kicking her boots off of her feet. She sets them to the side so they won’t trip on them in the early hours of the morning. She's trying to be better about that. “Hey. Listen,” they stop speaking and listen, but there’s no sound. “They aren’t stomping anymore.”

Bellamy looks up at the ceiling and breathes out, “god, thank you.” Clarke picks up the broom and puts it back in the pantry slowly. “Thank you for putting him in his place, too. They’re probably scared of you.”

“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever been happy I was here,” Clarke notes, following him back down the hallway to their bedrooms.

“Gotta keep you on your toes, right?” Clarke rolls her eyes but steps into her room. “Night, Clarke.”

“Night, Bellamy.” From there, things change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok here's chapter 3! sorry that it took an extra day, this one is a little longer and I wanted to make sure it made sense.  
> anyways, this is also shameless promotion of one of my favorite shows, besides the 100, obviously, so if you ever get the chance I highly recommend Prison Break to watch. I won't spoil anything for the show in this story, but I wanted to make sure I brought it up!  
> but here's the chapter! subplots are starting to develop and the next couple chapters will have 1 or 2 more big ones that are incorporated into the main story. hope you enjoy!!

“Up and at ‘em, Griffin!” Clarke groans and yanks a pillow over her head as Raven whacks her with another one.

“S’ too early,” she mumbles, trying to curl back into her blankets but her friend isn’t having it. Raven yanks one of her blankets from around her and Clarke winces at the chill of her room. It’s the end of August but Bellamy keeps the apartment ice cold so she has to pile on her blankets. That’s the one thing he wasn’t able to compromise on.

Raven scoffs as she collapses onto Clarke’s bed next to her. “You knew we were leaving early.”

She groans again, pressing her face into her pillow. Raven tugs the other one from over her head and tosses it out of Clarke’s reach. “I didn’t think you meant this early.”

“Everything is early when it comes to Raven,” another voice starts, “you shoulda known, Clarke.”

Clarke narrows her eyes at Emori but her friend only grins. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Clarke grumbles, finally sitting up and glaring at both of her friends.

Raven laughs, sitting up and getting off of Clarke’s bed. “You really need to get a control over your bedhead, babe, it looks like a bird made a nest there.” Clarke flips her off and clambers out of bed, stumbling blindly to the kitchen. It’s only after she gets her coffee that she realizes half of her friends are sitting in her living room.

“Always the last one up,” Monty calls and Clarke sticks her tongue out at him. She takes a sip of her coffee and feels it go straight to her veins. What a way to wake up. Even though she would much rather still be in her bed.

“I’m doing my best,” she deadpans and Monty chuckles from his spot on the couch.

“Yeah, but,” Bellamy’s voice comes from the hallway, “is your best really enough?”

Clarke rolls her eyes as she walks by to get dressed. “Fuck off, Bellamy.”

In the three weeks since their annoying neighbors stopped herding elephants, the two of them have developed a… begrudging friendship. Or something that resembles a friendship. They don’t fight as much now. Of course, they still argue, that’s their brand. But it doesn’t result in screaming matches like it did those first three weeks they lived together. Bellamy stopped leaving passive aggressive notes on the counters and fridge and instead just texts her when she forgets to pick up her shoes or put away her clean dishes. And Clarke stopped trying to irritate him as much, doing her best to keep her stuff out of the way.

She still doesn’t understand why he just seemed to always want to annoy and piss off her and only her, but it’s definitely better than it was in June.

They even found out that they both like the show Prison Break and are steadily trying to work their way through the episodes. They get in arguments about the show, trying to figure out the escape before the characters do. This was the only time a fight close to a screaming fit started, because Clarke called Bellamy’s escape plan stupid. They had to pause the episode for twenty minutes before they could resume.

She still thinks his plan is stupid.

Clarke hurries to get dressed, pulling on a pair of running shorts and a tank. She doesn’t really have a clue on what to wear to this “hike”. She doesn’t hike. Clarke would much rather stay at home and relax than go on a hike. But Raven’s been dying to do this for weeks and this is the only day in the next two months that they’re all off of work. It’s a miracle they even found a day. So she’s gonna do this for her friend, even if she’s not all that thrilled. Besides, if she stays positive maybe it won’t be as bad.

Ten minutes later, after everyone’s arrived at the apartment, they all pile into each other’s cars to drive off to wherever this trail is. Raven’s practically bouncing in the passenger seat of Emori’s car. Clarke and Harper scoot into the backseat, leaving room for Octavia in case she doesn’t ride with Lincoln.

The two in the backseat can’t help but snicker at Raven and Emori’s antics, as Raven changes each song halfway through and Emori pretends to be angry. At some point in the ride, Emori reaches across the center console to rip Raven’s phone from her hand. Raven starts to protest but Emori only grins and shakes her head, shoving the phone down her shirt. “It’s like you think I won’t reach in there and grab it,” Raven huffs, starting to reach over.

“You won’t while I’m driving,” Emori says smugly, knowing that she’s won. “Hah!”

It takes about forty minutes to arrive and get to the start of the trail, and Harper falls asleep on Clarke’s shoulder halfway. And they say that _she’s_ the sleepy one.

It takes Clarke all of five minutes to realize that she is not in shape enough to be hiking. She’s been working a lot of hours, so what? Not her fault. Okay, maybe it is a little bit her fault. She’s not even _that_ out of shape, she does yoga regularly, it’s just the trail is… long. And hard. And not her idea of fun.

She glares at the back of Raven’s head who is, naturally, at the front of the pack. Her middle name should be Unstoppable.

Clarke takes a sharp breath as they turn a corner and start to cross a bridge. She sees Bellamy standing at the edge of the bridge, undoubtedly counting their group. “You’re mothering again,” Clarke huffs as she passes him. He gives her the middle finger and she smirks.

He catches up with her as they all finish crossing the bridge. “I’m only mothering because you look like you’re going to pass out.”

She presses her lips together. “Fuck you. I’m doing _fine_ ,” she responds, actively trying to figure out a way to make her face not look as red as she knows it is. “The one you should be mothering is Murphy. He’s the one who could get lost in here.”

“My bets on Raven,” Bellamy responds, eyeing their friend who’s only a few steps in front of them, “I bet she tries to go off and scale the side of the damn mountain just to prove she can.”

“She could do it,” Clarke mumbles back, “don’t let her hear you say that or she’ll try and then crack her head open.”

Bellamy snorts, taking a sip of his water bottle. “You can patch her up, that’s the only reason we invited you,” he says, and Clarke shoves him a bit and he snickers. “Not that your presence isn’t _delightful_ , but having a nurse makes things _so_ much easier around here.”

“Did you know that you’re actually the worst?” Clarke mutters, just loud enough for him to hear and Bellamy’s eyes practically roll out of his head.

“Says the one who thinks Michael Scofield is gonna get out of the prison with T-Bag’s help,” Bellamy mutters back and she almost throws her water bottle at him.

“You’re the one who thinks he’s gonna get out through the asylum,” Clarke responds, still not understanding how that could even happen. They’re nowhere near the asylum! It’s just not logical! “Besides, T-Bag is going to be a very resourceful character and if you can’t see that then you’re just blind, or an idiot, or both!”

Bellamy’s about to retort something to her, probably something accusing her validity of the statement, when Raven yells at them to get a move on. Then she realizes that they’re standing in the middle of the trail, rehashing a debate that happened days ago. “Your idea still sucks!” Clarke calls over her shoulder, grinning when he huffs something like _fuck you and your ideas_ under his breath.

By the time they reach the top of the trail, Clarke really does think she’s going to pass out. Not that she’d give anyone the satisfaction of that. She plops down on a boulder next to Raven and the brunette grins before slinging an arm over her shoulder. “Good hike?”

Clarke rolls her eyes and takes a long drink from her water bottle. “When you said short- _ish_ hike I didn’t know that meant twelve miles, Raven.”

“I knew if I told you you wouldn’t have come and we couldn’t have that,” Raven teases as Harper and Emori drop down next to them.

“Do either of you have water? I hit John with my water bottle and it broke two miles ago,” Emori grumbles and Clarke can’t stop herself from laughing. She hands it over quickly and Emori gives her a look of thanks. The four sit quietly for a moment, three out of the four (literally, fuck you Raven) trying to catch their breaths. Octavia gives them a grin and crosses over to them, sitting on the ground in front of Clarke.

“You don’t even look tired,” Clarke complains and Octavia smirks.

“Well I am a physical trainer, Clarke. It only makes sense.”

Clarke’s phone buzzes and she reaches down to her small backpack on the ground to extract it. She fumbles for it quickly, raising a brow when she sees a text from Bellamy. She spins to find him, but he’s off talking to Miller and Murphy as if he didn’t text her.

She unlocks her phone and opens her text, surprised to see a picture from him. The caption says _something to paint_ and she finds that the picture is of the four of them sitting on the boulder. He obviously took it from behind them, and honestly, he’s right. It really could be a great painting. She’d have to experiment with the lighting and fix how some of the colors would turn out on canvas and it would be a challenge, but she’s never one to back down from one.

Clarke spins around quickly again, trying to find him. She catches his eye momentarily and he only grins, giving her a nod before turning back to Miller and Murphy.

Maybe Bellamy _is_ her friend. A weird, I-hate-you-most-of-the-time kind of friend, but still, a friend.

* * *

 

“Mr. Blake?”

Bellamy looks up from his desk and quickly tries to remember who the two girls in front of him are. It’s only September, so he’s desperately trying to learn names. He pauses for a second, and then grins. Charlotte. Jess. Both in his fourth period. “What’s up?”

It’s the beginning of lunch, so he doesn’t quite know why they’re in his room. Monty and Jasper are supposed to be on their way, but they probably blew something up as usual and have to clean it up. “How old are you?” Bellamy raises a brow and Charlotte looks flustered. Jess looks anywhere but him. “I—we have a bet.”

“You have a bet?” He says, grinning a bit. He prides himself on his relationships with his students. He tries to be relatable and friendly to all of his students, especially at the beginning of the year when they’re all still developing relationships. Most of the time it works, and he’s thankful for that. There are always some that he can’t connect to, but this year so far he’s doing well. They have a long way to go academics wise, especially with the impending AP tests next semester, but as kids they’re great kids.

Charlotte shifts on her feet and Jess looks mortified, “yeah. Me and Jess,” Bellamy bites back his grin and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “She thinks that you’re older than thirty. But I don’t think so. And if I win the bet she buys my ticket to the carnival tonight, and I really wanna win the bet.”

Bellamy chuckles a bit, shaking his head. “Well, Charlotte, you’ll be happy to hear that I am not older than thirty. Sorry, Jess, you owe her a ticket.”

Jess groans as Charlotte cheers. “I told you! He’s not _that_ old!”

“Hey!” Bellamy says, rolling his eyes at his students, “I am not old.”

Jess frowns at the prospect of having to buy her friend a ticket, but then turns to him. “Well, if you’re not older than thirty how old are you?”

Bellamy raises a brow and then says, “I’m twenty-seven—” He pauses because no, he’s not twenty-seven anymore, because today’s his birthday. “Twenty-eight.”

“Are you sure?” Charlotte asks and Bellamy nods, wondering how the hell he forgot his own birthday. “It’s like you forgot. You really are an old man,” Bellamy goes to retort but the two girls are already thundering out of his classroom to go to lunch, “thanks for telling Jess that she was wrong and I was right!” Charlotte calls as they run out of the room and Bellamy can only shake his head and grin.

Monty and Jasper pop their heads in seconds later and grins. “Happy birthday, dude,” Jasper says, shuffling in and dropping into the chair next to Bellamy’s desk. He props his feet up on the desk, like he normally does, and Bellamy can only roll his eyes.

It’s become somewhat of a tradition for the three of them to eat lunch together on Friday’s. Monty and Jasper started working at Arkadia High School only a couple years ago, and when they joined the staff they didn’t know anyone but Bellamy, and they quickly became close. They’re a little younger than him but Bellamy doesn’t mind because they’re still some of the best people he knows. They’re also some of the weirdest, but that’s beside the point. They started eating lunch in one of their classrooms at least once a week, and today is just so happens that it’s Bellamy’s birthday.

 “I kinda forgot about it,” Bellamy admits, shrugging his shoulders as he reaches for his lunch. “Just another reminder that I’m ancient, apparently.”

Monty snorts a bit and takes a bite of his sandwich, “ah, c’mon you aren’t that ancient. You might be Mayan Calendar ancient but at least you aren’t Great Pyramids ancient.” Bellamy throws his wadded-up napkin at his friend but Monty ducks, grinning brightly. “Did I at least get the dates right?”

“You got the dates right,” Bellamy grumbles, “do you know if my sister is planning anything?”

Both of them shrug, but they won’t look Bellamy in the eye. That’s a dead giveaway. “I’m not sure. Is your sister ever not planning something?” Jasper tries to save it, and Bellamy frowns.

Bellamy rolls his eyes, “you know what I mean.” For Bellamy’s twenty-fifth birthday, Octavia spent the entire day getting him to run mindless errands with her just so she could get all of their friends to set up her apartment for a surprise party that nearly gave Bellamy a stroke. “You remember what happened the last time she surprised me, Monty.”

Monty grins, probably very clearly remembering the look on Bellamy’s face when he walked into Octavia’s apartment and immediately had silly string and confetti all over him. “I do remember. It’s one of the best pictures Miller has ever taken,” Bellamy frowns but Monty only grins. “Oh, come on. Octavia does this for everyone.”

“She makes it worse for me.”

“Only because you’re the biggest grump in the entire world.”

Bellamy takes a bite of his own sandwich and rolls his eyes again, “have you met Clarke? Especially in the mornings?” Two days ago she yelled at him because his voice was too loud.

Jasper raises a brow and smirks. “Oh, and are you familiar with that? Clarke in the morning?”

Bellamy makes another face and looks for something else to throw at Jasper, but he doesn’t quite think a stapler would be a good idea. “Fuck off, man,” he finally says, as Jasper swims in mirth, “she’s grumpy as hell in the mornings.”

“How’s that going, by the way? Last time we asked she wasn’t speaking to you,” Monty asks, finishing his sandwich and tossing his trash away.

“We kinda talked about it. I apologized and she said that she was overreacting,” Bellamy replies easily and Jasper raises a brow, “she’s not that bad. Anymore.” Sure, they’ve gotten better. Especially after they talked a little about the impact of his comments from a few weeks ago. He’d even go as far to call them somewhat friends. When they’re not complaining about work or arguing about Prison Break or getting onto each other’s asses about stuff, she’s not a bad roommate. Yeah, sometimes she’s a little messy but sometimes he leaves his tests and essays all over the kitchen table. Compromise. That’s what he’s learning. With Miller it was a lot easier because they both kept to their rooms, only appearing in the kitchen and living room when they wanted to beat each other’s ass at video games. But with Clarke it’s like he actually has a roommate again. A blonde, infuriating, powerful one, but a roommate.

“Well, that’s good,” Jasper says, finishing off his water bottle. “At least we won’t have to be planning a funeral.

Both Bellamy and Monty roll their eyes. “Yeah, I don’t think she’s gonna kill me anymore. It’s still an option, but I think now it’s in the back of her mind.” And the thing is, he doesn’t think that she hates him anymore. He probably infuriates her, just like she infuriates him, but it’s more amusing than frustrating now.

The three of them finish off their lunch with a few cracks at how the rest of their friends are doing, and Bellamy forgets all about his birthday.

That is, until he walks into his apartment to find Octavia, Raven, and Clarke all in the tiny kitchen hovering over the counter in the corner. The flour and sugar bags are on the table, and it looks like there are two-day’s worth of dishes in the sink.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to look like that,” he hears Raven say, “it’s not supposed to look like a pile of shit.”

“Well obviously not,” Octavia replies, and Bellamy can only grin.

“What’s not supposed to look like a pile of shit?” All three women shriek and turn around at his voice, his sister slouching over the counter.

“Jesus, Bell,” Octavia scolds, “you scared us.” There’s flour on her nose and Bellamy raises a brow. “You weren’t supposed to be home for another hour.”

His brows raise further, but he doesn’t move from the doorway. “How do you know that?” Octavia pauses and looks at Raven and Clarke for help, but both of them shrug and turn back around. “Monty,” Bellamy says, finally understanding. “Do I need to go?”

“I mean it’s your apartment so technically no,” Octavia tells him, finally stepping forward and his eyes dart to Raven and Clarke. He knows that there’s a cake back there, and he just prays to god that it doesn’t taste like shit. “Happy birthday,” she grins and Bellamy responds with a smile.

“What time is everyone getting here?” He hears a snort from the kitchen and Octavia looks annoyed.

“No one’s coming over.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes and he drops his bag next to the couch. “Yeah, and I’m stupid. No surprises this year, O.”

“There’s always a surprise,” Raven says from the kitchen and Bellamy collapses backwards onto the couch and stares at his sister.

Octavia makes a face and finally cracks, plopping down next to him. “Everyone’s coming at eight.”

“That’s so late.”

“God, you _are_ an old man,” he hears Clarke’s voice from the kitchen and he drops his head to the back of the couch.

“Fuck off,” he replies, his eyes closing momentarily.

He prods Octavia enough to figure out who all is coming and he makes her promise that there aren’t gonna be any surprises this year. He was digging silly string from his hair for days last time she had a big surprise.

When she tells him that Lincoln is coming, Bellamy scowls. It’s not that he doesn’t like Lincoln. He just doesn’t know him. In the two years that Octavia has been dating him, he’s had maybe three conversations with him. One of them wasn’t necessarily a good conversation either, so really, it’s only been two conversations. He doesn’t know if he trusts him either. He’s a year older than Bellamy which doesn’t exactly do anything to ease his mind.

“Come on, Bellamy. You have to _try_.”

“It’s my birthday,” he responds stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Octavia makes a face. “He’s not going anywhere anytime soon so I would really appreciate it if you at least tried with him, Bellamy.”

“He doesn’t talk to me to try with him.”

“Because he’s intimidated by you,” Octavia reasons, and Bellamy watches Raven and Clarke start on the dishes. The latter of the two shoots him an apologetic glance. Octavia must have told them who she was inviting. “You’re my older brother and he wants your approval. Just please try with him,” Octavia finally says when she realizes he’s not going to say anything. “It doesn’t have to happen overnight, but I would really appreciate it.”

Bellamy finally nods, but he doesn’t know how much progress he can make with the guy in a night. Lincoln doesn’t say much, and certainly doesn’t say much to Bellamy either. He just wants to keep his little sister safe.

By 8:30, the party is in full swing. There’s more food in their kitchen then there has been in weeks but Bellamy’s happy. His friends are there and he’s enjoying himself. It’s been a long week and it’s nice to blow off some steam.

Currently, they’re all playing Uno around the coffee table. They combined two decks so it’s mega-uno, mostly filled with chaos, screaming, and the possibilities of broken friendships. Emori is threatening to break up with Murphy if he lays down the Draw 4 card and Bellamy watches as his eyes dart from the cards to Emori. And then the son of a bitch slaps down the reverse card and Bellamy’s fucked.

“What a dick move,” Bellamy huffs, gritting his teeth as he looks at his cards. He has nothing. So he draws, and grins a bit when he gets a Draw 4 card. He knows _exactly_ who he’s using that on. Murphy deserves it.

The game keeps going and he watches as his friends get more buzzed as it goes on. Raven practically tackles Clarke after a Skip card and it takes them several minutes to continue the game because they’re all laughing so hard.

They all watch as Miller narrows his eyes at his cards. “Don’t do it,” Jackson pleads, laughing a bit at Miller’s serious expression. “I swear, Nate, don’t—”

But then Miller lays down the Draw 4 card and Jackson scowls and they all about lose their minds. “How many more of these cards can there be?” Jackson grumbles as he takes four more.

“Who knows,” Clarke responds, glancing at Bellamy before grinning tipsily. “I mean, Bellamy has half the deck over there. He’s hoarding them.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” Bellamy states, taking a swig of his beer and Clarke sticks her tongue out at him. “You fuckers keep setting me up.”

And then it all just gets worse when Bellamy gets skipped, reversed on, and then he has to Draw 2. “I don’t know why I play Uno with you guys, I’m only going to end the game and have no friends left.”

Harper shouts out Uno! and they all look at her in shock. She shrugs and smiles sweetly, holding up her one card. “New plan,” Raven says, “gang up on Harper.”

But Harper somehow still miraculously wins and she drains a shot of tequila dramatically presented to her by Raven. “That’s my girl,” Monty says, grinning widely.

They toss the cards into the middle and Murphy shuffles them to prepare for the next game. The door opens and Bellamy looks up to find Lincoln lumbering in. Instantly, Bellamy feels sober as he watches Octavia take whatever is in Lincoln’s hand from him.

Bellamy knows he has to get up and thank him for coming. But he doesn’t want to. He’s a grown adult and he’s struggling to find it within him to thank his sister’s boyfriend for coming to his birthday. He’s gotta get this figured out. He thinks that he knows what the real problem is, he just doesn’t know how to admit it to himself or Octavia

It’s not until Murphy nudges him that he knows he has to get up. So Bellamy forces himself to his feet and wobbles a bit. “Don’t let Octavia play,” he starts, “she’ll win in five turns. She beat my ass when we were kids.”

“I can still beat your ass,” Octavia responds smugly, emerging from the kitchen. “And there’s nothing that you can do about it.”

“We’ll see about that,” he retaliates, “I’m gonna win this next one.”

“New plan,” Raven repeats, “gang up on Bellamy.” That gets a chorus of laughter and cheers but Bellamy forces himself to go talk to Lincoln.

The man in front of him doesn’t say much, but offers Bellamy a smile. “Thanks for coming,” he finally manages and Lincoln tips his head into a nod. “I know she probably dragged you into it, but—”

“It’s fine. It’s nice to be around you all.” Lincoln says, and that’s that. Man of many words.

Bellamy tips his head into a nod. They stand there for several seconds in quiet awkwardness and neither of them try to say anything. How is he supposed to figure out who Lincoln is if the man doesn’t talk to him? Eventually, Bellamy gives up and goes back to the game where he finds Octavia already settled in at the coffee table, a space for Lincoln next to her.

Bellamy sits down and looks at his cards, scowling. They must have rigged it, but he’s not gonna say anything. “Okay,” he grins, “who’s ready for me to beat their ass?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright here's chapter 4! this is actually one of my favorite chapters in the story, just because it's so fun and it was so fun to write so i hope you enjoy! it's starting to get to the point where i don't have a lot written, so i'll be working a lot to get these next few chapters finished so i can keep up a steady update schedule. anyways, hope you enjoy!

“I got you a bottle of wine,” he hears Clarke’s voice from behind him and he spins to find her holding one up. “Figured you’d need it after all of this.”

Bellamy can’t help but roll his eyes, “I can’t believe that you’re the only one who thought of that. Hand it over, we can have some together.” He puts the last of the dishes into the dishwasher as Clarke passes him the bottle. She grabs a couple glasses from the cabinet and he pours them both hearty glasses. He’s had a bit to drink tonight, but he can handle his alcohol. He doesn’t know how much Clarke has had to drink but he guesses that he trusts her enough to handle her alcohol. If she throws up, she’s cleaning it up.

Clarke kicks one of the spare balloons that Octavia left and it bounces around the floor for a moment. “I knew she was going to leave a mess,” Bellamy huffs and Clarke snorts. “I always tell her, don’t leave a mess but what does she always do?”

“Leave a mess,” Clarke finishes, settling into the arm of the couch. Bellamy nods and collapses into the other arm, his chest warm from the night with his friends. He hates when Octavia does things in secret and tries to surprise him, but he loves his friends. “Remember Raven’s last birthday when Octavia left noise makers all over the apartment?”

Bellamy groans and takes a drink from the wine, pleasantly surprised at the taste. “I opened a door and got an airhorn in my face. Jesus, I was so mad.”

“Raven threatened to kick her out,” Clarke says, her face breaking into a grin. “And then when Octavia said that she cleaned everything up Raven found one in the cabinet, and woke her up with it the next morning. Octavia was _livid_. In college once—” And then she cuts off sharply, her face turning pink, and he knows it’s not from the wine.

“In college once,” Bellamy prompts, waving his hand.

“I’m not supposed to tell you that story,” Clarke says, her words muffled behind her hand. “I’m not allowed to tell you that story. She’ll kill me.”

He raises a brow but Clarke busies herself by taking a long drink from her wine. “I’m sure I already know the story.”

Her cheeks go pink again and Bellamy smirks. “I’m sure you don’t. I don’t think it’s something she would have shared with you over a family dinner.”

Bellamy groans, his head falling back onto the top of the couch. “It’s my birthday, princess. You can’t deny a guy on his birthday.”

“I can damn well try,” she mutters into her glass and Bellamy glares at her. “Besides, its 12:01, so technically it’s not your birthday anymore. Hah!”

“Dick.”

“Asshole,” Clarke responds smugly, grinning when she realizes he has no leverage over her anymore.

But then Bellamy grins wickedly as he checks the time on his phone. “Actually, princess, it’s still 11:58. Our clock is fast. So technically it’s still my birthday.” He’s got her and she knows it. Her cheeks turn pink again and Bellamy smirks as she takes a long drink from her glass. “Tell me the story.”

Clarke worries her lip and then groans. “Fine. But you cannot tell Octavia I’m telling you this story or she would honestly skin me alive.” He snickers and Clarke settles more into the arm of the couch, pulling a blanket around her.

“So,” she starts, and then stops. “Fuck. I don’t even know how to start this, fuck. Well, Raven pulled the airhorn prank once in college, when the three of us were living together,” Clarke explains, reaching for the bottle of wine to pour herself another glass. “So Octavia pranking Raven with it was payback. But, Raven rigged it in one of the showers, so that when you turned it on it would blast an airhorn at you.”

Bellamy chuckles a bit, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. This is gonna be good. “And—

Well, do you remember when Lincoln had a broken arm?”

His brows come together. “How is that in any way relevant to this story?”

“I’m getting there,” Clarke mutters, now unable to keep the smile off of her face. “But Raven rigged the shower, and um—fuck, Octavia was in the shower, uh, with Lincoln, and she turned it on and then when the airhorn went off Lincoln slipped and broke his arm on the tub.”

Now his brows are practically flying off of his face as he processes the sentence Clarke just spout out. She takes quick drinks of her wine, snorting into it at his shocked expression. “So that is the story of how Octavia didn’t learn her lesson and Lincoln broke his arm.”

It takes him a minute to respond. “I see why it wasn’t brought up at a family dinner.” And then Clarke giggles. Clarke doesn’t giggle. Bellamy swallows another drink of wine. “And this was your sophomore year.”

“Yes.” Then, Clarke adds, “that’s why Octavia had airhorns everywhere that one year. It’s been this ongoing war since college.”

Bellamy’s still trying to wrap his mind around the idea of Octavia and Lincoln… nope, never mind. Not going there. He knows that they’re together, he just doesn’t want to think of them together like _that_. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts. “You gonna use that as blackmail at some point?”

“I mean, I always threatened to tell you about it, even when we didn’t live together. I think she thought it was an empty threat because I wouldn’t risk my life like that,” Clarke tells him and he snorts. “But I told you anyways, so.” She shrugs. “Definitely gonna use this information to my advantage at some point, though.”

“Good. O always needs someone holding something over her head.”

The pair are quiet for a minute, and Bellamy taps on his wine glass idly. He’s pretty sure that Lincoln is gonna be around for a while. Octavia even told him that earlier in the evening. There’s just something about Octavia being in a long-term relationship that sets him off. The thing is though, Bellamy’s happy for her. He’s glad that she’s happy and wants nothing but the best for her. But does it have to be Lincoln?

Clarke interrupts his internal chaos. “Why don’t you like Lincoln?”

Bellamy shrugs, not really knowing how to answer that question. So he just says, “it’s not that I don’t like him. I just don’t know him.”

“It’s been like, three years.”

He makes a face at her. “I know that. He just doesn’t talk. It doesn’t make it easy to know who he is.”

“He talks to me,” Clarke tells him, and he frowns. “Maybe he’s scared of you.”

Bellamy snorts. “I hope so.”

“I think you two would get along,” she says thoughtfully and he scoffs. “I’m serious! You’re both dedicated and loyal, and you both love Octavia, so—”

“Didn’t know you thought so highly of me, princess,” Bellamy grins, and Clarke kicks his thigh lightly with her foot.

“I’m just saying I think you two could be friends. If you tried to talk to him. Or if you even got to know him. He’s not the devil in disguise, he just wants to love your sister.”

Bellamy frowns again, swallowing. “And I’m glad she has him, but it doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

“You’re a mother hen, Bellamy. It’s just in your nature.” She pauses. “I think you should just try.” And then she stops, and the conversation is over. It gives him a lot to think about for sure. Because he loves his sister and wants her to be happy but he’s just not sure about Lincoln. It also doesn’t help if she’s with Lincoln it’ll seem like she doesn’t need his help anymore. And he knows that that’s not true, and that Octavia will always need him in ways that Lincoln can’t help, but the thought is hard to stomach.

They’re quiet for a moment, both finishing their glasses when the stomping starts. Both of their heads shoot up to the ceiling and Bellamy scowls. “Son of a bitch.”

Clarke presses her fingers to her eyes and rolls her head onto the back of the couch. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” It’s been a few weeks since the _ah_ … last incident with the neighbors. There have been the occasional loud stomps but nothing like the first time, or this time. It doesn’t help that both Bellamy and Clarke are pleasantly buzzed. “How do we get rid of them,” Clarke asks, flipping both middle fingers to the ceiling.

Bellamy shrugs and pours himself more wine because honestly, he needs it. These stupid neighbors. “Maybe we just have to be more annoying than them.”

Clarke stills for a moment, but then shoots up. She wobbles on her feet momentarily, and sets her hands on the arm of the couch to steady herself. “I need,” she starts, edging around the coffee table, “I need your vacuum.”

“My vacuum?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Clarke fidgets as she continues to sway on her feet. “Because I do. Trust me,” she urges, her _s_ slurring a little bit. And then Bellamy grins because fuck it, they’re both drunk and their neighbors are annoying as shit. So he stumbles to the hall closet and yanks it out of its spot. She tips her head to the left as he hands it to her, and then frowns. “I thought this thing was lighter.”

“Why does it need to be lighter?” Bellamy asks, crossing his arms across his chest. He watches as Clarke attempts to grip the vacuum.

The blonde pauses with it in her hands and then grins wickedly. “I’m gonna vacuum the motherfucking ceiling.” It takes a moment to process and then—he laughs. Bellamy laughs so hard he falls backwards onto the couch, clutching his stomach as Clarke grins widely. He’s practically in stiches by the time she musters up enough strength to get it over her head.

And then she vacuums the ceiling. Now, Bellamy doesn’t have a clue if their upstairs neighbors can hear it. But, _fuck_ , it’s hysterical. What’s even funnier is that while Clarke Griffin is tiny, she is mighty. He watches from the couch with amusement as she swipes the vacuum on the ceiling as best as she can, and he practically chokes from laughter when she stumbles and the vacuum almost takes out a lamp.

“Oops,” she giggles, but then turns off the vacuum to listen for stomping. It’s quiet for a moment and it starts again and Clarke frowns. “Guess I’m just gonna have to keep going.”

A stroke of genius hits Bellamy. “Better idea,” he announces loudly, swinging his legs from the couch the best he can. “We vacuum their door.” Now, this sounds like a great idea to drunk Bellamy, and apparently to drunk Clarke too because her face lights up with a mischievous glint that he’s not used to seeing on her.

“We are gonna get kicked out, oh my god, so worth it,” Clarke laughs, unplugging the vacuum and practically tripping out of the room to get upstairs. She forgets her shoes and Bellamy forgets his but neither of them care as they drunkenly trample up the stairs. “Is there a plug?” Clarke whispers to him, her eyes squinting around the landing.

“Why are you whispering?” Bellamy whispers back, his brows high on his face.

“Why are _you_ whispering?” Clarke teases and he scowls.

Bellamy looks around the landing before answering. “I asked you first.”

“Stealth mode,” Clarke responds simply, and Bellamy snorts. He has to go down a couple steps to get a hold of himself because fuck, this is a lot of fun. “There’s a plug over here, Bellamy,” Clarke whispers, attempting to tiptoe over to it. Bellamy muffles his laughter into his hand because she’s actually stomping. He’s decided that he likes drunk Clarke.

There’s loud music coming from inside of the apartment and Bellamy vaguely makes out Kanye West but that’s all he can understand. There are definitely a bunch of college aged guys in there. It makes him want to win this war even more, because yes, this is a war and he doesn’t like to lose.

“Okay, so,” Clarke whispers, coming up behind him and he nearly jumps out of his skin, “I might lose your vacuum out here. If they come out I’m running as fast as I can. I just have to be faster than you, so your vacuum might get caught in the cross fire.”

Bellamy sticks his tongue out at her and she grins, fumbling to plug in the vacuum. “Wait,” he starts, “let me vacuum.” She frowns. “Oh, come on you got to slap him last time! We can alternate our pranks.”

And then Clarke sighs overdramatically and hands him the vacuum. She sloppily salutes him, “god speed, my friend.” Bellamy snorts again and she ducks around the corner, giving him a grin.

The vacuum has barely been on for ten seconds when the music stops abruptly and there’s shouting from inside of the apartment. “Bellamy!” Clarke hisses in laughter, and he practically throws the vacuum down the way to her. Clarke almost catches it, instead it kind of crashes onto the top step but otherwise looks okay. Bellamy hastily pulls the cord from the plug and moves as quickly as his buzzed body will allow.

He’s just reaching the steps when the door flings open. “Hey!” A male voice calls, and Bellamy only prods her down the stairwell.

“Go, go he’s gonna kill us!”

They’re barely inside when Bellamy slams the door shut, bolting it. They both collapse against the wall giggling, and Clarke is still clutching the vacuum to her chest. His smile is bright and his chest is warm, and who knew that annoying neighbors would make a really funny birthday?

There’s a pounding on their door and they both go statue still, but another giggle escapes out of Clarke and he kicks her thigh lightly. “Shh,” he whispers, but it’s probably louder than he thinks it is.

“If they break in I’m using you as a meat shield,” Clarke mutters and he scowls.

“Fuck off, Griffin,” Bellamy whispers, but she only grins wider. There’s another knock on the door and Bellamy slowly stands up to look out of the peephole. He grins. “He looks pissed.”

“Good,” Clarke responds, standing up too. “Let me see.” He moves to the side and she smirks. “Perfect.” She steps back slowly and stumbles towards the hall closet. “I don’t think we won yet but I think we can. I don’t like to lose.”

Bellamy snorts and steps back from the door as the neighbor leaves them be. “They’ll probably stomp even louder. Or something worse.”

“Oh, they’ll for sure have something worse. Until we win.”

Bellamy laughs again, watching her put the vacuum away. “You’re a menace, Princess.”

She throws her hands up in a shrug, “it’s what I’m best at.” She leans against the wall to steady herself again. “I didn’t know you could be fun. You have a stick up your ass.”

“I thought you were a stick in the mud,” Bellamy admits, ignoring her comment.

“Glad we’re both full of surprises these days.”

* * *

 

Clarke scowls as Raven grins at her. “Oh, come on Clarke! You haven’t been on a date in such a long time.”

“Because I don’t want to go on a date,” she reasons, and Raven frowns. For the past hour, Raven has been trying to convince Clarke to set up a Tinder.

Clarke doesn’t need a Tinder. She’s perfectly fine being single, she’s happy with her friends and her life as it is. She doesn’t need a relationship to complete her or anything. She knows that Raven is just suggesting this out of love, because it has been a really long dry spell, but she doesn’t know how good of an idea Tinder would be.

“People want to go on dates with you, though!” Raven replies, flopping back onto her couch.

Clarke frowns. “Oh yeah? Name three people.” Raven purses her lips and pauses. “Mhmm. That’s what I thought.”

“Okay, it’s not like people are actively asking you. But I see how people look at you when we’re out! Even at dinner! Literally everyone looks at you!”

“That doesn’t mean they want to date me,” Clarke says, rolling her eyes. “I just don’t see how Tinder would help.”

Raven looks at her and grins. “I mean, you’d get to have sex.”

“But it’d probably be mediocre sex and I’m not about that.” Clarke likes sex. But she doesn’t like bad sex. There’s also the stigma lot of people on Tinder don’t know how to have good sex. Or how to pleasure a woman, and Clarke’s not here for that. “And isn’t everyone on Tinder like, creepy? I don’t wanna die when I go for a hook-up.”

Her friend rolls her eyes and switches on the television. “I’ve used Tinder before. I didn’t die.”

“Yeah, but you could kick them enough and they’d leave you alone. If you were kidnapped or some shit they’d bring you back,” Clarke teases and Raven makes a face, but cracks a smile. “Look, I know that you do this out of love. But after the whole Finn debacle I’ve kinda just decided that if the opportunity presents itself and I feel okay with it, I’ll go for it. I haven’t had the opportunity show up yet, so I haven’t done anything,”

Raven’s eyes narrow, but she searches for something on Netflix to watch. “So if the opportunity, by chance, presented itself on Tinder—”

“You’re the worst,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I don’t want to use Tinder. I want to meet someone naturally. However that may be.”

The brunette is quiet for a moment, and then nods. “Alright. Sorry, I just wanted to help.”

“No, you’re okay. I know you just wanted to help.”

“But, Griffin, you gotta get laid sooner or later. No person should go this long without getting laid.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and grins as Raven selects a shitty rom-com from the queue. “I’ll do my best, Reyes, just don’t meddle. I know you aren’t good at not meddling and Octavia is horrible at not meddling, but I want to do this on my own.”

“That’s fair,” Raven responds, nodding. “I support you.”

“Good to know,” Clarke says, smiling as the movie gets started. Besides, Clarke is happy right now. Her life is more together than it has been in ages and everything is falling into place finally. She doesn’t need anything else to be happy.

Sometimes, though, she wonders what a relationship would be like. How it would feel to have someone. Her last relationship was kind of chaotic, and she’s not eager to repeat that, but she wonders how it would feel to be with the right person. She wonders if she’ll ever know what it feels like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, Clarke. you don't even know the half of it.
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright here's chapter 5! i'm not particularly pleased with this chapter, i've been staring at it for days and i finally just had to post it. the next few chapters are difficult for me personally, but i'll do my best for y'all! but, i hope y'all enjoy! subplots and main plots starting to take shape!

Clarke loves her job. Really, she does. Ever since her father died and the doctors couldn’t find a way to save him, she’s wanted to be a nurse. She’s wanted to do whatever she could so that a child doesn’t have to find out that her parent is dead. That was her vow, and she’s sticking to it. She enjoys helping people, and learning new things in surgeries and other medical procedures is the most fascinating thing to her.

She doesn’t love her job when someone she cares very much about comes into the hospital.

It’s a normal day. She’s already made her usual rounds, checked in on her patients’ charts, and cleaned up a couple of the rooms that were recently vacated. All simple things, all things she does on a daily basis.

She and Jackson are walking down the hallway together, as they normally do on a Monday afternoon. They both get a page for an incoming trauma, and turn around and head straight to the Emergency Room. Clarke doesn’t usually work trauma, but someone needed her to fill in and she happily obliged. She loves learning new things.

However, when they get to the ER and the doors open, she slams right into Jackson’s back. He’s frozen in front of her.

“Jackson, what’s going—”

And then she stops too. Because there’s blood. And there’s bruises. And there are doctors everywhere. And it’s all surrounding Raven Reyes.

Clarke freezes. All she can see if the blood that’s beading at her hairline and the sharp cuts that are littered across her arms. There are budding bruises _everywhere_. Clarke’s vision goes red and she tries to lunge forward for her friend, but a pair of arms hold her back. “Jackson, let me go—”

“We can’t,” he forces out, “it’s a conflict of interest.” Clarke tries to shake free but his grip is tight.

“It’s Raven—” She’s practically hysterical and Jackson has to drag her from the ER. “You can’t stop me—”

Clarke gets through him and stares into the ER as they wheel Raven in. “CT 2, Jane Doe headed your way. Hiking accident, possible head injury, broken wrist, lacerations—” Clarke’s brain catches up with the words being spoken.

“Raven Reyes,” she forces out, breaking away from Jackson completely to get to Raven. God, it’s even worse up close. Clarke’s heart clenches as she looks at Raven, who’s covered in dirt, blood, and sweat. “Her name is Raven.” Her leg is twisted, her knee is bleeding. Fuck, what happened out there?

One of the doctors pauses, but Clarke can’t tear her eyes from her friend. Anxiety pools in her stomach and her heart clenches uncomfortably. “Do you know her, nurse?” Clarke can only nod. Raven’s head is stabilized. Her _head_. She knows that it’s procedural but what the fuck was she doing? How did this happen? Clarke’s hands won’t stop shaking. Jackson puts his hands gently on her arms and Clarke looks back up at the doctor, finally zoning back in. “Nurse? Okay, her name is Raven. We need you to fill out an information page for us. We can take it from here. She’s in good hands.”

But Clarke looks at Raven and all she sees is so many possibilities for everything to go on. _Possible_ head injury? What kind of head injury? How serious is it? “She’s going to be fine. Please, fill out an information page. We will let you know when we know anything.”

Jackson’s the one who leads her into the waiting room. He sits Clarke down and gets an information sheet. “I have to work—”

He shakes his head. “I’ve already let the chief know what’s going on. We’re both off the hook for the rest of the day. They called in two others who were on call.” Clarke’s stomach hurts. Her eyes are wide and unseeing and it takes her several seconds to read the words on the page. But she nods a little, an uneasy feeling settling in to her entire body.

“I gotta,” Clarke starts, fumbling for her phone in her scrub pocket, “I gotta call Emori.” Raven’s emergency contact. Technically, they’re all each other’s emergency contacts, but Clarke knows that Emori needs to know first. Emori needs to know first.

“I’ll call Nate, we’ll get the word out. She’s gonna be fine. It’s Raven, she’s unstoppable.” Clarke wants to believe him, but there are too many scenarios running through her head. Surely, he’s thinking it too. He works in the hospital, they’ve both seen how this can end. She chooses to not think about it.

Clarke swallows her fear and shakily calls Emori. She picks up on the second ring, sounding bright and cheery and Clarke _hates_ this. It’s like her entire body is revolting. “Hey! I thought you were at work?”

“I am,” Clarke manages, swallowing thickly. “I’m off the hook for now. It’s,” she takes a shaky breath. “It’s Raven. I don’t know anything, Emori, she came in five minutes ago and was headed to CT. Hiking accident.”

It’s quiet on the other side of the line for a split second until there’s a loud crash. “Fuck. Okay. We’re on the way. I’m with John and Harper. How did she look, was she—”

“Blood and bruises,” Clarke chokes out, pressing her other hand into her eyes, “possible head injury but I don’t know how severe. It’s a conflict of interest for Jackson and me to be back there.” She swallows back her tears, anxiety crushing her. What happened to her? How did she get this way? “She came in as Jane Doe but we recognized her. That’s all I know right now. Broken wrist,” Clarke adds, desperately trying to remember what the trauma doctor said. “Her leg was twisted. I can’t remember anything else.” She’s practically sweating out her anxiety, god, this is the worst.

“Harper’s texting Monty. We’re on our way, fuck, I’m gonna puke.” There’s a pause on the line and Clarke hears a car start. “I didn’t even know she was out hiking today,” Emori’s voice is very quiet, and she sounds very small, and Clarke wants to _cry_.

“I’ll try to get as much information as I can. We’re in the waiting room. See you soon.”

Clarke’s hands tremble as she fills out Raven’s information the best she can. She doesn’t know what to put for _reason for admittance_ because she _doesn’t know what’s going on_.

Her legs shake as she brings the paper back to the front desk, quickly explaining that she doesn’t know Raven’s insurance, but someone will. Jackson returns from calling Miller, gives her a quick nod, and immediately sits down and presses his fingers into his eyes.

Clarke can’t sit. She starts to pace, running a line into the floor with her shoes. Her mind is running a mile a minute, speculating every possible thing that could be going on. She knows that the shop is closed on Monday’s, and Raven usually spends Monday’s alone. It’s always been her day to relax and recoup and prepare for the week ahead. But Clarke just doesn’t know how she wouldn’t know that Raven was going hiking. Stuff happens, and now she realizes that didn’t even know.

Emori busts through the doors a few minutes later, frantically turning her head to find Clarke. She barrels across the room into a hug. “Thank you for calling me,” and Clarke nods rapidly.

“Of course,” Emori lets go and looks at Clarke expectantly. “They haven’t said anything yet. I don’t know _anything_.”

Her friend looks away with disappointment and fear. “How long do you think it will take?”

Clarke shrugs, worrying her lip. “I guess it depends. If there’s a head injury it could mean surgery, but I don’t know.”

Emori nods a bit. “Yeah, I understand. I just…”

“I know.”

Murphy gives her a nod and Harper chews her lip as she approaches Clarke. “Monty said that he’d be on the way after school gets out in thirty minutes, Jasper and Bellamy too. Octavia hasn’t seen the message, I’m pretty sure she’s in the middle of an appointment.”

“Jackson called Miller, so I think that’s everyone.”

Harper touches her arm lightly and Clarke forces a smile. “How are you holding up?”

“Probably the same as you,” Clarke says quietly and Harper nods.

“You saw her when she came in. How did she look?”

Clarke is instantly brought back to the ER and she wants to cry and vomit at the same time. So many bruises, so much blood. “Scary,” is what she finally says, “her head was stabilized. I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.”

“You’re the nurse,” Harper mutters quietly, glancing at Emori who’s either trying to write down Raven’s insurance or yell at the receptionist for more information. “Give me your honest opinion. How did it look?”

Clarke chews on her lip and looks at her fingers. She doesn’t want to tell their friend that it looked bad. Because it did. Raven looked like she had just rolled down the side of a mountain. There were grass and leaves still in her hair, for Christ’s sake. But she doesn’t want to lie to anyone about this, especially not Harper. “Bad,” she finally admits. “It might have been worse because I was seeing it as she was rolling into the ER, but it didn’t look pretty. It didn’t look like she was bleeding out though, so that’s a good thing. And no one was administering CPR, which is another good thing. It could be worse.”

Harper nods slowly, coming to terms with what Clarke is saying. She gives her a quick hug and goes to sit down next to Murphy, who looks like he’s trying very hard to stay calm.

Clarke resumes her pacing. Jackson taps his foot. She thinks she’s going crazy.

Someone taps her on the shoulder and she spins quickly, expecting one of her friends. Instead, she finds a man standing quietly. Her eyes narrow at him. “Can I help you?”

The man nods a bit, glancing around her to her friends. “Sorry, this is gonna be a weird question. You’re friends with the hiker?”

Her brows raise a bit and her lips part. “The hiker?”

“The one who got into the accident?”

Clarke nods slowly. “Yes. Why do you care?”

He looks a little confused and maybe nervous as he looks around her again. “Because I’m the one who found her.”

Only then does Clarke register the hiking clothes, and the traces of blood and dirt across his shirt. “Oh! Oh my god. Thank you,” Clarke spills out, trying to express her gratitude however she can. “Thank you so much.” The man tips his head into a nod. “May I ask what happened, if you know? We’re all a little…” she trails off, unable to get the words out.

He nods and the story comes out of him quickly. “I was on the path that I usually go on, when I heard a scream. And um, I was the only one in the area, so I went towards where I thought the scream was. I saw her down off of the trail, and it looked like she had slipped down the slope.”

Clarke takes a shaky breath and nods, prompting him to continue. If she slipped down the slope, that explains the grass and dirt. “And so I got down to her after a few minutes cause I didn’t want to fall too, and she yelled at me to stop standing there and call 911.” Clarke cracks a smile. “She was awake for a little, and pretty much told me everything I was doing wrong to help her. She said that my plan for getting her out of there was stupid.” Clarke laughs in spite of the situation because of course Raven would find a way to insult the only person who could help her.

“How did you get her out?”

“Called the park ranger, gave shaky coordinates on where we were. He called an ambulance, and they met us at the gates. She passed out somewhere on the drive between her fall spot and the ambulance,” the man tells her, and Clarke swallows shakily.

She nods a little, the fear seeping back into her. How long was it between when she fell and when she got to the hospital? How long has she been here? “Thank you,” is what Clarke says instead, nodding her gratitude. “for finding her.”

The man nods back. “Of course. I hope someone would have done the same thing for me and my family.”

Family. That’s what they all are to each other. You don’t have to be blood relatives to be family. Clarke’s glad that they’re all here right now. She sticks out her hand to the man and introduces herself, as he very well may have saved Raven’s life. “Clarke Griffin. Her name is Raven.”

“Zeke Shaw,” he replies, taking her hand. “Nice to meet you, not under good circumstances.”

She nods a little, glancing back at Emori and Harper who are now speaking in hushed, quick tones in the corner. “Not the best, no.”

Zeke looks around the room and then pulls a wallet from his pocket. “I went back and found her wallet in the woods. That’s why they didn’t know who she was. Her keys weren’t around, but her wallet was,” Zeke says as Clarke takes it from him.

Clarke frowns. "Did she not tell you her name?"

Zeke looks down at his shoes, as if he's in shame. "I panicked, and never asked. That's on me. I was too worried about making sure she was okay. Sorry about the confusion.

The blonde shrugs, "it's alright. It was a scary situation. Honestly, her being awake and telling you how wrong you were is enough of a reassurance. She was probably freaked out and confused and didn't want to mention who she was."

The man next to her tips his head into a nod, extracting his keys from his pocket. “I'm glad that she's here. I hope she's okay, but I’m gonna get going. My siblings will be waiting, but I just wanted to let you know what happened and what they did for her on the ride here.”

Clarke tips her head into a nod, unable to verbally express her thanks. The tears in her eyes must give it away. If he hadn’t found her, Raven might still be out there. Raven’s at the hospital and hopefully okay because of this man, and they’ll never be able to thank him enough. She'll have to mention Zeke to her, she bets that'll be a fun conversation.

She watches as Zeke leaves and Clarke turns her attention back to Jackson and quickly recounts the story. “If she was awake and arguing with him that means she was responding to what happened,” Jackson says, and Clarke nods. “That’s a good sign. I’m not surprised she passed out, especially if she was in a lot of pain.”

“Yeah. Is there any way for us to get back there and check on her?”

Jackson glances down the hallway and frowns. “Doubt it, but I’m gonna try anyways. Be right back.”

Clarke continues to pace. It’s the only thing she has control over at the moment. She doesn’t know what’s going on with Raven and she doesn’t know how she can fix it. Bottom line is, she _can’t_ fix it. She can’t reverse time and prevent Raven from getting into the accident. They just have to hope that she’s okay and trust the doctors to help her through it.

* * *

 

Bellamy walks into the hospital and quickly looks for his friends. Finding out that one of your closest friends was in a hiking accident wasn’t the best way to end a Monday. He’s been in a panic since he got Harper’s text and he can’t even imagine what everyone else is feeling, especially Clarke and Jackson. They literally saw an unconscious Raven get rolled in on a gurney. That’s _gotta_ cause some anxiety.

He finds them in the scarily quiet waiting room. The only noise is the tapping of Clarke’s feet as she paces back and forth. Emori has her head in her hands and Harper looks like she could breakdown at any moment.

“Monty!”

Everyone looks up as Harper moves to give her boyfriend a tight hug. She whispers what she knows to the three of them. Bellamy’s stuck, frozen in space. Head injury? What kind of head injury? His hands are shaky and his heart is lodged somewhere in his throat.

Clarke doesn’t even attempt to give them a smile as she continues pacing. Bellamy debates going over and asking if she’s okay, but he knows what that answer would be. Who could be okay right now?

So instead he sits down next to Murphy and tries to control some of his nervous energy even though he feels like he could pass out at any second.

Bellamy watches as Jackson appears and he and Clarke go off further away from the rest of them. Their eyes keep flitting from each other to the rest of the group, but their voices are too hushed for him to understand.

Hiking accident. God. Of all things, it had to happen while Raven was doing something she enjoyed. Not that that will ever stop her from hiking again, but it’s shattering and discouraging. He doesn’t know the extent of her injuries, and that’s what’s making this worse. Because she could be bleeding out on the table but none of them would know.

Besides, that’s what happened to his mother. She died after a freak accident at work and bled out before Bellamy even knew there was an accident. He hasn’t been in a hospital since then. He hasn’t felt this freaked out since then. And now someone else could be dying. So yeah, he’s having a great day. It’s fine. Everything’s _fine_.

Bellamy rubs his temples slowly, trying to calm himself down, but it’s practically impossible. Raven’s one of his closest friends, and she’s in the hospital, and none of them even knew she was going hiking today. What kind of shitty friends are they?

The room seems to be pressing in on him. It’s quiet, way too quiet, and everyone just has this panicked feel to them. The chair is uncomfortable and the walls are squeezing everything closer, and closer, and closer. He feels like he’s suffocating.

So he stands and crosses to Clarke, who’s now alone. Jackson must have gone to meet Miller outside. Clarke’s eyes are squeezed shut and her hands are braced tightly on the back of a chair. “Hey,” he rumbles quietly, and she jumps a bit. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she mumbles back, detaching herself from the chair to turn to him. “Just a little freaked out.”

Bellamy nods in understanding. “I feel like I’m suffocating.”

She runs her hand through her hair quickly and chews on her bottom lip. It’s a sign she’s anxious. “Me too,” Clarke tells him quietly, “Jackson said that he couldn’t find much when he went to CT. She’s not in an OR, she’s not getting a scan, she’s nowhere to be found. It makes me wonder if she’s been admitted to a room, or…”

“Don’t talk like that,” Bellamy says quickly, realizing what she was going to say. “Don’t do that to yourself, please.” He sounds almost desperate, and she pauses. “It’s Raven. If anything, she’s probably telling the doctors that they’re doing their jobs wrong. You know how she is.”

Clarke snorts a bit, leaning on the wall next to him. “The man who found her said that she told him his plan for getting her out of there was stupid.”

“Unsurprising,” Bellamy says, cracking a small smile. “Raven’s plan was probably better.”

“It usually is,” Clarke murmurs, glancing at the room. “How’s everyone holding up?”

Bellamy shrugs, because he doesn’t know. “Monty and Jasper were freaked on the drive over. Emori and Harper look like they’re going to cry, and Miller and Murphy just look shocked. So, overall, we’re obviously doing great.”

She knocks her shoulder against his lightly. “I’ve always appreciated your shitty humor,” she admits, and Bellamy can’t stop himself from grinning. Something like pride blossoms in his stomach. A compliment from Clarke Griffin means that you’re in her good graces. He _never_ thought he’d be there.

“How long till we know?” Bellamy asks, hanging his head and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Could be any minute, could be a few hours. Depends on her injuries and if they had to go into surgery.”

Bellamy nods again, and continues resting against the wall with Clarke. They both need some support right now. All he can think about is the possibility for this to go wrong. That something goes wrong somewhere in this hospital and they lose Raven. He knows that the doctors here are fully capable and very well trained, but the possibility is still high. His head jerks up when he hears a new, unfamiliar voice. “Clarke, Jackson?”

In an instant, all of their heads swivel to the doctor standing with a clipboard. Clarke is frozen in place next to him. Jackson stares with his jaw dropped open. It takes Bellamy nudging her forward with an elbow to jolt her into the present.

Bellamy swallows thickly as he watches the doctor talk to Clarke and Jackson. He can’t hear them, and it looks like his friends can’t either. The room waits with bated breath, but the doctor gives no sign of anything in his expressions.

He just hopes that they weren’t too late.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, y'all know i had to
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok here's chapter 6! this one also gave me trouble but i'm happy with how it turned out! also: i will be leaving the country in a couple days. i will be gone for a week and i'm gonna try to have the next chapter written so that i can update at least once while i'm gone, but no promises! part of it is already written so i'll do my best but i wanted to give y'all a heads up!
> 
> hope y'all enjoy!

Bellamy watches as the doctor glances between Clarke and Jackson and the rest of them. He wishes he could read lips, because he doesn’t have a clue what’s being said. He’s anxious, his heart is in his throat and his stomach has dropped to his toes.

But then the doctor turns away, and Clarke gives Jackson a tired smile and Bellamy lets himself breathe. Just a little. Because that can mean anything, but he’s letting himself hope.

His friends turn to face them, and both of their faces light up with timid grins, and he feels a breath of relief escape him. Because that means that Raven’s okay.

Bellamy stumbles towards Clarke and Jackson as their friends do the same. Emori looks like she’s going to breakdown at any moment and Monty has been quiet since Harper texted him. Clarke takes a quiet breath before speaking. “She’s okay. She has a mild concussion, a broken wrist, and her ACL is torn, but she’s okay. She’s sleeping right now. They’re going to wait until later to discuss what to do about the ACL. She’s _okay_.”

Emori lets out a strangled sound and pulls Clarke into a hug. “When can we see her?”

Clarke shrugs a bit, holding Emori tightly. “Whenever she wakes up. Since she was awake after the accident they’re expecting her to remember what happened. They’ll still have to talk to her when she wakes up, but it won’t be that long of a wait.”

Emori nods and releases her, swatting at his eyes. Bellamy feels like he could sing from the top of a mountain. Raven’s okay. She’s probably gonna be in a lot of pain for the next few weeks, but she’s okay.

He watches as the group sags in relief, hugs being exchanged all around. He finds it easier to breathe when his friends are smiling.

And then there are arms around _him_ , and he stumbles a bit, because who’s hugging him? It takes him a second, but then he registers the blonde hair that’s flown around him. Clarke. Clarke? Why would Clarke be hugging him? He’s always so thrown by anyone touching him but this is monumental for many different reasons.

She laughs a little bit and he decides that he doesn’t care why she’s hugging him. So he wraps his arms around her and presses his face into her hair, breathing her in. She smells like hospital and vanilla (of _course_ she smells like vanilla) and Bellamy still can barely process the fact that she’s this close to him voluntarily.

“There’s something I never thought I’d see,” a voice says, and he snorts a bit before slowly releasing Clarke from his grip. Octavia stands next to them, her brows high on her forehead. She’s grinning like she knows something he doesn’t, but quickly wraps Clarke into a hug. “How is she?”

“She’s okay,” Clarke’s voice is muffled into Octavia’s shoulder and Bellamy looks at his sister while Clarke recounts their friend’s injuries. “She’s sleeping now, but we can see her when she wakes up.”

Octavia’s eyes close in relief. “Thank god. I came as soon as I could; I had to finish with a patient,” she says apologetically, but Clarke only shakes her head.

“What matters is that you’re here now. Jackson went back to find her room and see when we were allowed back,” Clarke explains quickly. “I don’t know much more right now. Only what the doctors told us.”

His sister nods and turns to him as Clarke walks to Emori and Murphy. “What was that about?”

“What?”

“You know,” Octavia says, looking at Clarke.

Bellamy rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nothing. Relief. Everyone was hugging.”

“Clarke doesn’t hug you.”

“She doesn’t like me,” Bellamy corrects, but even he knows that isn’t true. They’re friends now. Or, as much of friends as you can get when you bicker over everything. Except now it’s more playful bickering as opposed to I-want-to-slam-your-head-against-a-wall bickering. She’s grown on him, and he suspects that he’s grown on her as well.

“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England,” Octavia says, but she doesn’t press the topic. “Lincoln said he’d bring food by once he got off work. Any requests?”

Bellamy scowls. Of course he’s bringing food by, he’s a damn _saint_. But he’s not going to argue with Octavia today about Lincoln because they obviously have more pressing matters to deal with. “I’m good. Ask around, though. Clarke and Jackson especially, they’ve been here the longest.” Clarke always makes it a point to tell him her schedule, just so he doesn’t worry if she’s gone for multiple days at a time. Currently, she’s been here almost forty-eight hours, so the girl has got to be hungry.

Harper manages to convince them all to sit down again instead of hover around the doors that’ll take them to Raven. Logically, they all know that it’s gonna take a little for her to wake up and get situated before they can go see her, but they just want to make sure she’s okay.

So they all sit down, and the atmosphere is much lighter, much happier. Obviously, they’re all still worried, but after getting confirmation that she’s alive they all feel like they can breathe a bit more. Bellamy feels like he’s floating; they’re so lucky that she’s okay. Hiking accidents can be scary, and fatal. It could have been so much worse, what if she hadn’t been found? What if she was still out there?

He’s gonna send the man that found her a fruit basket.

Bellamy finds himself trapped in a conversation about hallucogenic nuts with Jasper and Monty when the doctor reenters the room. They all pause in their conversations and he waves his hand at them. “You’re all welcome to come back. A couple things to know before you see her,” he adds quickly when Emori tries to race off in front of him.

“She has been told what happened, and how she got here. She remembers it, which is a great sign. But because of her concussion, sounds are going to be very, very loud. You will have to keep your voices down. Lights will be difficult too, and she may experience nausea and possible short-term memory malfunctions. All of it is completely normal. But, you will have to be patient with her. Her knee will need surgery, but that doesn’t have to be decided on today. It will most likely be in the next few days, but that’s for us to discuss with her. For now, she needs her friends.”

The doctor leads them back to Raven’s room and Clarke pokes her head in first. “Raven? We’re all out here. Is it alright if we come in?”

“You better,” is Raven’s muffled reply, and Bellamy can’t stop himself from grinning. They follow Clarke into the room and find it dim. The overhead light isn’t on, and the only source of light is the window. He supposes that it’s for the better. He doesn’t know much about concussions, but he assumes that this is the best course of action. And this way they can’t see the cuts and scrapes and bruises that are undoubtedly scattered across her body and face.

She squints up at them. “Hey, Raven,” Clarke says quietly. “Everyone’s here.”

Raven nods tiredly, and Bellamy takes note of the brace on her wrist and the stabilization device around her left knee. Knowing how severe hiking accidents can be, Raven was incredibly lucky. Surely it’ll get worse before it gets better, but she’s okay.

Their friends file into the room and Emori practically throws herself at Raven, and the girl in the bed can only laugh a little. “How do you feel?” Emori asks quietly, and Raven snorts.

“Like I just rolled down a mountain,” Raven mumbles, and for a moment they’re all quiet because fuck, she did roll down a mountain. But then she grins a bit. “Lighten up! If I can joke about my trauma then you can too.”

Bellamy chuckles a bit, reaching down to squeeze Raven’s hand. “Glad you’re okay, Reyes. Got us all scared for a minute there.”

“It’s what I do best,” she responds dryly, accepting Harper’s tight hug. “Careful,” she gasps, “I don’t think I have any broken ribs but I’m _covered_ in bruises. I think I slammed into a tree.”

“How does your head feel?” Monty asks, bending down to give Raven a hug.

She shrugs. “I’m on a lot of pain medicine right now. I don’t have a clue what’s going on up there. So it doesn’t hurt yet. But they said it will. And I have to get ACL surgery.” She frowns at that, and Bellamy can’t stop himself from grinning. Raven hates being down for the count. Even if it’s just a cold, she can’t stand it. But she’ll grit her teeth and get through it because that’s what she does.

“That’s what they told us,” Bellamy says, leaning against the wall as Miller and Jackson move towards Raven. “They said they’d talk about it later, after you’ve slept.”

She frowns and pokes at the device wrapped around her knee. “I’d rather have it now while I’m already in the hospital than have to come back later.”

“You’d have the surgery?” Murphy asks, brows high on his head.

Raven shrugs, making a face. “Well, yeah. I need my legs. I’m a mechanic. I can’t just have one completely perfect knee and then another that has the potential to make everything difficult. I know how long it takes for ACL rehab, but thank god we’ve got a physical therapist with us,” she continues, grinning at Octavia who shakes her head with a wide grin.

“You sure you’d want to have me yelling at you both at home and in rehab?”

“Would only make me want to get better faster so I don’t have to hear your obnoxious voice in two places,” Raven teases, leaning back into her pillows.

Octavia grins, glancing down at Raven’s brace. “I’m not gonna make it easy for you.”

“Didn’t expect you to.”

It’s hard to imagine that this is the same group of people who were absolutely panicked out of their minds an hour ago. But that’s how it is with them; they’re family, and they panic when one of them is hurt or in danger. Unfortunately, it has happened far too often, but never to the point of hospitalization. Raven’s the first who’s actually been in the hospital. One time, Jasper singed his eyebrows off and they were scared for a little, but then he started laughing so they were okay.

But Raven’s alive, and that’s enough for today.

* * *

 

Long after the boys have left, Clarke, Octavia and Harper lounge on the small couch in the corner of the room while Emori sits on the edge of Raven’s bed. Harper’s legs are thrown across Octavia and Clarke’s laps and Emori stares down at Raven’s brace intently.

The doctors are hoping to discharge her tomorrow evening, if she chooses not to have the ACL surgery. Raven wants to get it done as soon as possible so that she can start getting better, and Clarke’s on board for that plan. It’s just a matter if her doctors agree to that as well. It would help her get in and out of the hospital quickly, because Raven hates hospitals, and it would be better for her health in general.

She’d be able to get better in her own apartment and she’d have her friends there to help her. They’re hoping that the doctors okay Octavia as a PT, but if not she’ll still be able to help Raven at home with everything going on.

Raven’s head started hurting an hour ago, so they pulled down the shade and are now sitting in the dark. They’ll all have to go soon, but none of them are exactly eager to leave their friend. Things could have been really bad today, and Clarke is painfully aware of it. Raven could have been seriously injured, and they’re lucky that she was found when she was.

Which reminds her…

“Hey, Raven?” Clarke whispers and the brunette in the bed makes a noise. “Do you remember anything about the person who brought you in?”

Octavia perks up and Clarke can almost see her brows raise. But then Raven groans, “oh my god, he was an asshole! He wouldn’t listen to me! His plan sucked.”

“His?” Emori says next, a grin unmistakable in her voice. “Who is he?”

“Don’t do this,” Raven grumbles, and Clarke hears the rustling of the sheets. “He was just the one who found me in the woods.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Mhmm. And the one who got you to the ambulance, and the one who went back to where you fell to get your wallet. Oh, and we can’t forget he was also the one who brought your wallet here so he could make sure we had it.”

“That’s who that was?” Harper says, swinging her legs back in front of her. “I could have sworn it was just someone asking why there were a bunch of crazed lunatics in the waiting room.”

Raven laughs, loudly and sharply and Clarke loves it. It’s the laugh that they rarely get out of Raven, but it’s one of Clarke’s favorites. “He was so obnoxious.”

“He was cute, though,” Clarke adds, even though Zeke isn’t really her type. He could definitely be Raven’s type, maybe. She’s not really sure what Raven’s type is, but hopefully it’s Zeke.

“Do not do this,” Raven grumbles, “don’t gang up on me.”

“The three of them didn’t even see him,” she says, smiling as Raven squirms. Emori looks ready to mercilessly tease Raven for days. Octavia is grinning widely next to her and Harper is giggling to herself, and god, they got so lucky today. Things could have gone so, so wrong. They all know it, and they’re all gonna count their blessings.

The doctor returns around seven, and they spend the next half hour discussing Raven’s ACL surgery. The doctors are prepared to give her the surgery tomorrow if she’s willing, but they are worried about the impact of a concussion will have on her healing. But, because she’ll have to be off of her feet for three weeks following the surgery, they’re not worried about how physical therapy will impact her concussion.

The girls make good points to the doctors, saying that they’ll be there the whole time during recovery, and that Octavia is even a physical therapist. The fact that Raven lives with one helps a lot too. And Clarke being a nurse that lives ten minutes from her has a lasting impact.

In the end, the doctors agree on surgery for eight o’clock in the morning on Wednesday. They want to keep Raven in the hospital Tuesday to monitor her concussion and her knee to make sure she’s all clear for surgery. Raven’s obviously not too pleased about the fact that she even has to have surgery, but she’d much rather do this than just wait for it to heal. She’s got too much to do; she doesn’t have time for waiting.

* * *

 

Clarke gets the call about her wisdom teeth the afternoon of Raven’s surgery. She’s just left the building after switching off with Harper when her phone rings, and her stomach drops as the call continues. She’s been putting this off for fucking _years_. She refused to do it in high school, would not let anyone go near her about it in college, but now she doesn’t have a choice. The oral surgeons say that if she doesn’t get them out soon it’ll start screwing up her teeth. And she does not have enough money to get her teeth fixed.

So she schedules an appointment for a week later (fuck, a week is so _soon_ ), and drives home in a panic. Because despite being a nurse and literally spending years practicing IV drips, she absolutely does not want to be put under to get her teeth out. Also, who knows what the fuck is gonna come out of her mouth?

Currently, she’s lamenting about it on the couch, an arm thrown across her eyes. “I’m going to die, Bellamy.”

He scoffs, reaching down for the remote to skip the intro of the episode of Prison Break they’re watching. “You are not. I got mine out when I was seventeen. I lived.”

Clarke groans and peaks out from under her arm as the theme song starts. “But I’m like, twenty-two. The pain for that surgery only gets worse as you get older!”

Bellamy smirks at her whining. Clarke isn’t really a whiner, and despite being a nurse, she looks genuinely afraid to have to get her wisdom teeth out. “Aw, c’mon. Are you scared?”

She makes a face and sticks her tongue out at him, “absolutely not,” she mutters. “I’m more scared of what I’m going to say. You know I have no filter when I’m drunk—”

“—In general—” Bellamy mutters, getting a light whack to the back of his head.

“—so just imagine how it’ll be when I’m on those pain meds. I’m gonna be nuts! Who knows what’s gonna come out of my mouth!”

He snorts a bit, reaching to pause the show. “Yeah, you’re gonna be insane.” That earns him another whack, this time with a pillow.

“You ass,” Clarke grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest and sinking into the couch. “I’m gonna die and you’re going to miss me.”

“I’ll need another roommate.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and frowns. “I’m going to be insufferable.”

“Who says you already aren’t?”

She narrows her eyes, but doesn’t turn to face him. “You’re going to have to take care of me.”

“Pretty sure I’ll pass that job off to someone else.”

Clarke whacks him with another pillow. “When I die while I’m under you’ll miss me and you’ll regret this being one of the last conversations you had with me.”

Now, Bellamy snorts, finally turning to her. “Of course, how could I not miss this? You blonde, infuriating—”

She smothers him with a pillow this time, but his laughter echoes through it. “You’re a dick, Bellamy. You better take care of me. I’m not gonna know which way is up.”

He shrugs the pillow from his face and rolls his eyes. “Great, first Reyes, now you. We’re all just falling apart. When’s your appointment?”

“Next week,” Clarke tells him, worrying her lip. She’s going to be awful. She already knows it. “How am I supposed to help Raven if I’m not even going to be able to do anything for myself?”

Bellamy presses play on Netflix again, but he’s frowning. “Clarke, you know you don’t have to do everything by yourself, right?”

She shrugs, picking at a paint stain on the sleeve of her shirt. “I know. I just always _do_.”

His frown deepens. If he thinks about it, he’s always done things by himself too. Especially after his mom died. And he can assume that Clarke did the same after her father died. But he learned how to relinquish control, how to let other people help him and not feel guilty about it. He wonders if Clarke ever figured out how to do that.

“I just want to make sure she’s okay,” Clarke admits, “and I hate not being there for her.” Bellamy nods in understanding. He gets it. Clarke cares for all of them, and wants to be able to help them through whatever’s going on at that point in time. Her being out of commission after her best friend has ACL surgery would feel like the end of the world.

“She won’t be upset that you’re not there. If anything, she’ll be angry that she might miss you high off of your ass. But she won’t be upset. If it helps, we can sit both of you down on the couch for several days and then you can help her whenever you’re feeling better. But you don’t have to do it alone. That’s what we’re here for, Clarke. You can count on us.” It sounds a lot like _you can count on me_ , but neither say anything about that.

The blonde finally turns to him, and he finds her expression unreadable. There's a hint of a smile on her face, though, so that makes him feel better. “Thanks, Bellamy. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” he replies, and he means it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wisdom teeth, oh man oh man. i wonder how this is gonna go
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY so sorry this took so long!! i seriously overestimated the amount of time i would have to write on my vacation, but i was able to bust this out quickly. 
> 
> anyways, i grappled with this chapter a lot. there was something that i had been going back and forth on including in this story, and it had to be decided in this chapter, so i spent many hours fighting myself on it. but!! the chapter is done, and i really like it.
> 
> another heads up: we've officially reached the point of the story that i do not have anything written. like i said, i left this area blank and never got around to writing some of it. so updates might be slower, but my summer class is ending in a few days and that will give me so much more time to write! so that's good! i hope y'all enjoy!

Clarke’s phone buzzes with a text as she waits in the lobby of the oral surgeon’s office. She reaches into her pocket to grab it, scowling quickly when she sees it’s from Jasper.

**Jasper** : see u on the other side

**Clarke** : fuck off, im going to die and ur gonna miss me

**Jasper** : try not to die today if that’s cool

Clarke grins a bit at Jasper’s response and then puts her phone down. He’s been supportive about her irrational fear of wisdom teeth for the last week. He reacted badly to the anesthesia when he got his wisdom teeth out, so he’s been understanding about the whole thing. However, he’s upset he can’t be here to see her in her glory, but everyone has promised pictures.

Her leg bounces uncontrollably, and she chews on her lip as she waits. Bellamy sits on one side of her, with Raven and Harper on the other, the former’s crutches laid out in front of them. She’s been on them for a week and is already ready to throw them into an incinerator. Clarke will honestly probably help with that, she’s been whacked with the crutches more times than she can count. Raven’s started using them as weapons. They all can’t wait till they’re gone.

“You okay?” Bellamy asks gruffly, nudging her with his elbow.

Clarke shrugs, wringing her fingers together. “I’m gonna be a mess.”

A small breath of laughter escapes him and Clarke’s grateful that he’s here, even if it’s his day off. The school district had a designated optional work day for teachers, but Bellamy chose to come with her. Granted, he knew that she’d need a ride back because she won’t be able to drive, and Raven won’t be able to drive, and Harper’s car is in the shop, but she appreciates the sentiment anyways. “Can’t wait.”

“Maybe if I just stay awake they can’t give me surgery.” Now he rolls his eyes, scoffing at her. “I’m serious! If I just refuse to go under they can’t—”

“Clarke Griffin?”

Her head snaps up and she swallows. She doesn’t want to get her wisdom teeth out. She likes to think that she has a pretty high tolerance of pain but fuck, she doesn’t want to have to deal with this. Bellamy taps the side of her knee with his hand. “You’re up. See you soon.”

Clarke scowls at him but he only gives her an encouraging smile. Raven gives her a thumbs up and Harper wishes her luck and Clarke just wants this to be over with.

She follows the cute receptionist back to the room and then the oral surgeons are in there getting her ready. They make a bit of small talk but Clarke honestly feels like she could throw up, even though there’s nothing in her stomach. Then they insert the IV and that’s when she decides that she’s not going under. If she stays awake they can’t perform surgery on her.

But then the _walls_ start sliding upwards and fuck, she’s going under.

* * *

 

Bellamy watches with mild amusement as Clarke comes out of the haze. Raven and Harper stand on either side of him, and Raven is practically bouncing on her toes. She’s been anticipating whatever doped-up Clarke is gonna say all morning and he can’t say that he’s not interested too. It’ll definitely be good. She was under for around an hour, and the last fifteen minutes have been waiting for her to fully wake up.

Her eyes finally open blearily and he grins a bit when her hands immediately fumble on her face to feel the ice packs. “You fook my teeh,” she mumbles through the gauze, but he can’t quite understand her. “My teeh are gone.” Clarke’s eyes are bleary and she looks absolutely wrecked.

“Her teeth,” Harper mutters, “we took her teeth.” Bellamy bites his lip to keep from grinning at her. “How do you feel, Clarke?”

She waves her hands in front of her face. “Like I’m in the middle of a Walmart.” Bellamy raises a brow. “In the Midwest.” Raven snorts and muffles it into her hand. “I’m fuzzy. The walls,” she grumbles, and Harper raises her brows.

“The walls what, Clarke?”

Her hands move in vertical motions. “Moving.”

“The walls are moving?”

Clarke nods, blinking again. Harper claps a hand over her mouth to prevent her giggles from getting out. “Everyfing is fine.”

“Obviously,” Bellamy replies, “we took your wisdom teeth.”

The blonde in the chair groans, her head dropping backwards. “If I don’t have my wisdom teeh, how can I be a nurse?” Harper ducks behind him to laugh. “I have to have my teeh!”

“I’m sure they’ll still let you be a nurse,” Bellamy tells her and Clarke groans again. Raven’s laughter is loud and Bellamy grins widely at their friend.

One of the receptionists finally reappears and places a few pieces of paper in Clarke’s lap. “Alright, these are your notes for the next few weeks. We went over them with you before the surgery and with your friends. I’m sure you’ll be well taken care of.” Yeah, by Bellamy and Harper. Like any of their other friends are gonna do anything but make fun of her chipmunk cheeks for two weeks. Raven would help, but… ACL surgery will take you out of the Clarke-had surgery-come-help-her pool. Most likely, Clarke and Raven will sit together on the couch for a couple days and try not to die. Bellamy will be the one keeping them alive. He’s thrilled.

Bellamy watches as Clarke tries to nod at the receptionist, but then stops abruptly. Her cheeks turn pink and then she starts talking again and god, he wishes she hadn’t. Because now she’s just gonna embarrass herself. Like, colossally embarrass herself. “Holy shit,” Clarke mumbles, looking back up at the receptionist, “you’re _super_ pretty.”

The receptionists’ eyes go wide and she looks at the three of them for help. None of them know what to say. “I mean it,” Clarke grumbles, raising her hands up again. “Like, you’ve got the hair,” Clarke waves her hands dazedly around her head, “and the eyes,” she nearly pokes her own eyes out with that one, “and _wow_.”

Raven actually _keels_ over with laughter and even Bellamy is fighting to keep the amusement off of his face. But he’s failing miserably, because Clarke turns to him and huffs. “Make yourself useful and get her number for me.”

Harper chokes on her laughter and Bellamy pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m so sorry,” he tells the receptionist, who still looks shell-shocked. “She’s just a little—”

“I know exactly what I’m doing, Bellamy Blake, now you—”

“We’re gonna go get the car, Clarke,” Raven laughs breathlessly, cutting her friend off, “we’ll be right back. You do you.”

The three of them exit the room quickly and Raven and Harper collapse into peels of laughter and Bellamy has to chuckle at the absurdity of it. He knew Clarke would be a mess on those meds but he didn’t think she’d _actually_ hit on her nurse. Hysterical. “Please tell me,” Raven forces out through her laughter, “that someone got a video of that. Holy shit, I’m gonna _pee_ , everyone’s gonna love that.” The two girls continue to laugh for another moment, before Raven straightens up on her crutches. “We’re so gonna play that at their wedding one day.”

Something uncomfortable twinges in Bellamy’s stomach at her words. He doesn’t get time to think about it before the door opens again and Clarke’s sitting in a wheelchair. “My steed,” she tells him and Bellamy nods with more amusement. He’s elected to be the one to push her out of the oral surgeon’s office.

“Of course. A princess has to have a royal steed.”

“You need to drop that joke, it is not funny,” Clarke says, her voice a little louder than normal. He wonders if doped-up Clarke is gonna be just like drunk Clarke: loud and always ready for a fight. He’s been on the receiving end of one too many arguments.

“I think it’s hilarious,” Bellamy teases back as Harper and one of the doctors open the back door for them. “You are such a princess, Clarke.”

The woman in the chair huffs and tries to sink down into the wheelchair, but is unable to because of her current state. Once they’re at Bellamy’s car, she leans heavily on him while he helps her into the car. Her fingers tighten on his shirt sleeve as he eases her in. “Can you buckled on your own?”

She nods with an edge of determination on her face. He raises a brow and waits in the door of the car to see if she can do it. Harper helps Raven into the front seat before she climbs next to Clarke, who is struggling. “I can do it,” she grumbles, her fingers slipping around the buckle. “I am not a child, Bellamy.”

He chuckles a bit, taking the buckle gently from her hands to get her situated. “I know you’re not, but right now you had a little too much laughing gas.”

“You’re no fun,” she replies, sticking her tongue out teasingly at him.

He rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide his grin. “Yep, I’m a stick in the mud for making sure that you’re safe. Wouldn’t want to get into a car accident and have you go flying out the window all because you couldn’t get yourself buckled.”

She shoves his shoulder lightly as he closes the door. This is gonna be interesting.

By the time they’re on the road, he’s hoping that Clarke won’t be one of those people who gets their wisdom teeth out and doesn’t stop crying for days. She’s being doing great so far, besides trying to backseat drive for him. She claimed that he was going to kill her because he took a turn too quickly.

Raven turns around to face her, grinning widely. Clarke tries to grin back, but the guaze in her mouth only sticks out. Harper hands her a Kleenex. “So,” Raven says, “did you get her number?”

“Whose?”

Raven turns to Bellamy and snickers at Clarke’s short-term memory loss. “The receptionist. That you called _super pretty_.”

Bellamy watches in the rear view as Clarke huffs again and crosses her arms over her chest. “No. She said that if I remember this in a week when I go in for my checkup I can have it. So I’m gonna remember it.”

“Good for you, Griffin. You’re killing the game. I thought she looked scary, so props to you.”

Clarke laughs from the backseat, and goes to say something when Bellamy has to hit the brakes hard because of a red light. “You really are trying to kill me aren’t you?”

* * *

 

Remember what he said about Clarke not crying? Yeah, he was wrong. So, so, wrong. Anesthesia does _not_ have a good effect on Clarke. At all. She’s felt dizzy and nauseous ever since they got her on the couch in their apartment. He’s worried she’s going to throw up, and then throw up again once she sees blood in her vomit. She’s a nurse, and logically she should know that there’s nothing wrong with her, but Wisdom Teeth Clarke is gonna lose her mind.

Currently, Harper and Bellamy have been standing in front of her for the last two minutes trying to figure out what to do. Raven’s on the couch next to her, trying to coax her into eating some oatmeal but Clarke isn’t having it.

“I’ll just throw it up,” she groans, pressing her hands on the ice packs. “Ow.”

“What do we do?” Harper asks under her breath and Bellamy can only shrug. “She’s like a baby, she won’t say what’s wrong, so we just have to guess.”

“Imagine what she’s gonna be like when the medicine wears off the first time,” he responds, as Raven turns to him and raises her hands in an _I dunno_ expression.

Clarke pushes herself up into a sitting position and scowls. “You’re a liar, you said it wouldn’t be so bad.”

He puts his hands up in defense. “And it’s not so bad, not after the first three days. As long as you keep taking your meds, and following the list the doctor’s gave you you’ll be fine.”

“I’m so bad at following directions,” Clarke responds, and all three of them nod. Because she’s _awful_ at directions.

“We’ll just make you follow them.”

“You guys are _bitches_. No fun.”

Bellamy lets out a breath of laughter. “You’re the one who’s having no fun. This is plenty enjoyable.”

Clarke groans again, collapsing backwards with her head falling onto a pillow. “Ow.”

* * *

 

Wisdom teeth suck. Like, you know those awful mornings in college when you wake up with a hangover, hurting all over, and no idea how you got home? It’s like that, but one thousand times worse. She doesn’t even think she’s still human, let alone alive.

She hasn’t brushed her teeth in two days, she’s as swollen as a chipmunk, and she still can’t eat anything other than potatoes, oatmeal, and eggs, if she presses them to the roof of her mouth with her tongue. It doesn’t help that her face is aching, and it feels like a thousand burning suns have burrowed into her cheeks. Wisdom teeth suck. They don’t even make you wise, so what’s the fucking point?

Even the ice packs she has wrapped around her head aren’t doing anything to help. They’re just making her angry. They’re semi-cold, but all she wants right now is for the swelling to go down and the pain to go away. Jesus, who decided to put wisdom teeth in someone’s skull? Clarke has a bone to pick with them.

She opens her eyes and stares up at the ceiling of her room. Day three. According to Bellamy, this is the worst day. Great. Can’t wait!

Clarke peels herself from her bed, her vision going dark as she stands up too quickly. Another thing wisdom teeth have done: knocked out her sense of balance. She’s been running into things all week. This medicine is no joke.

She shuffles out her door and into the kitchen to find Bellamy grading at the kitchen table. He looks up when she runs into the counter. “Morning. How are you feeling?”

Clarke groans and rummages in the freezer to get the spare ice packs. “Like my face just got run over by a semi.”

Bellamy snorts a bit and puts down his pen. He leans back in his chair. “Let me see, take off the ice packs.” She grimaces and pulls the wrap from around her head as Bellamy stands. He cocks his head a bit. “You are as red as a tomato.”

She shoves him lightly. “Oh, fuck off.”

He grins, “you’re swollen but more so on one side. It really could be worse. When I got mine out I couldn’t even open my mouth I was so swollen. Your big mouth is still open, so—”

Clarke scowls, but she’s grinning a bit. “Oh, fuck off,” she says again, but with no malice.

“You wanna try toast today?” She thinks for a moment, and then nods, reaching for the bread. “Go sit down, you look like you’re going to pass out.”

Something like annoyance bubbles in her stomach. “I’m not useless, you know.”

Bellamy raises a brow as he sticks two pieces in the toaster. “I know you’re not. But wisdom teeth suck. It’s okay for you to let someone else help you, you know.”

“I just don’t want to feel like I’m useless,” Clarke mumbles as she pulls the ice pack back on. “Because I’m not. It just feels like I am.

“You’re the furthest thing from useless, Clarke.”

“How did you get so good at this?”

Bellamy raises a brow as he waits for the toast to finish. “Did you forget that I raised Octavia?”

“I know but you take care of everyone. At the same time. I mean like, you’re scarily good at this.”

The toast pops out and he grabs the butter and jam from the fridge. “Good to know you don’t think I’m useless.”

* * *

 

Bellamy’s just sat down on the couch after the longest week ever when Clarke gets home from her appointment. He tips his head in a greeting as she collapses down next to him. “How was the appointment?”

She’s still swollen like a chipmunk, and it probably still hurts a lot, but she’s definitely a whole lot better than she was a week ago. “No dry sockets, everything is healing right, _and_ I can eat solid food now.

He puts his hand up for a high five and she grins before slapping her hand against his. “Congratulations, you’re a new person. So glad I could be here to see this accomplishment.” Clarke laughs and chews on her lip as he pulls up Netflix. They’ve watched so much Prison Break this past week that they’re in the last season. Bellamy's actually super excited, even though he has an awful feeling about what's gonna happen.

“There’s something else,” Clarke says and he raises a brow. “I have a date.”

His brows go even higher. “With the receptionist?” Admittedly, Bellamy had forgotten all about that. He had to keep Clarke alive all week, and her dating life was the last thing on his mind. Clarke nods, and he grins a bit. “Congratulations again, when’s the date?”

So he listens as Clarke talks about the receptionist, and how they’re going to dinner on Tuesday. He laughs when he’s supposed to because he’s a good friend, and he encourages her about the date because she hasn’t been on a date in a while.

But something about this is not sitting well with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, bellamy. my sweet, sweet son. 
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright here's the next chapter! while i was writing this chapter i was watching s1, and i was getting MAJOR delinquent vibes so i think that's where all of this chapter came from lol.
> 
> but i wrote this a lot faster than i thought i would, and that's great for both y'all and for me. i'm already working on the next few chapters, and this is where it starts to get really good. this is what i like to call: The Real Beginning. fluff, angst, pining, everything is headed y'all's way. i hope you like it!

“Bellamy’s moping again,” Miller says, and the man in question jerks his head up. It’s been another long week, can you blame him? High schoolers have a tendency to drive everyone up the fucking wall around this time of year. They’re a month out from Thanksgiving break and half of his classes are going haywire.

He frowns. “I am not. It’s just been a long fucking week.”

Now Murphy narrows his eyes, reaching into Miller’s fridge to grab a beer. “Uh huh. And it has nothing to do with the fact that Clarke is on a date right now.”

His frown deepens. “No,” he says, wondering how they could even think that. It’s not like he has feelings for Clarke. “High schoolers are just fucking brutal.”

Murphy doesn’t look convinced, and neither does Miller, but Jasper finally shrugs. “In his defense, this was a long week. It’s Homecoming. We all know how homecoming was in high school.”

“At least you didn’t grow up in Texas,” Miller grunts, plopping down onto the couch next to Bellamy. “Bells. Everywhere. Worst day of my damn life. Give me that controller, I’m gonna beat your ass.” Monty digs into the basket and extracts a PS4 controller for Miller, before tossing it his way.

“In your dreams,” Bellamy replies, “today in 3rd period one of my students started crying because of her homecoming date, and honestly I wish this week did not exist. It’s worse than Prom week for god’s sake.”

Monty reaches over to grab his beer and lets out a sharp laugh. “You have her too?”

“Was she crying in your class too?”

“I think she was past the stage of sadness and was at full on anger by the time she got to me,” Monty tells him, and Bellamy snorts.

Miller pulls up 2K, something that Bellamy is _awful_ at, and then narrows his eyes at Bellamy, still looking unconvinced. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

The game loads and Miller crosses his arms over his chest, frowning at Bellamy. “Are you sure you don’t have feelings for Clarke?”

“I don’t have feelings for Clarke,” he responds, almost automatically. Because he doesn’t. His feelings for her are strictly platonic, and that’s all it’ll ever be. She’s quickly becoming one of his closest friends, despite all of the issues they had in the beginning. But that doesn’t mean he’s developed feelings for her. Besides, that would ruin everything. The steady dynamic would never be able to work again if there were feelings involved. No, the idea of having feelings other than platonic ones for Clarke is ridiculous.

“Uh huh,” Miller says, as Murphy drops into the bean bag chair on the other side of the room. “So, let me get this straight. You being upset and having a bad day has nothing to do with the fact that Clarke, our Clarke Griffin, is on a date with someone right now that we have never met instead of having the weekly wine night the girls have. Correct?”

Now he frowns. “When you say it like that, now I’m wondering if we should have met her.”

“Answer the question,” Miller says, raising his eyebrows in a challenge that Bellamy knows he won’t back down from.

Bellamy just shrugs. “Sorry. Nothing to do with it.”

Miller still doesn’t look convinced, and neither does Murphy, but they drop it for the time being.

Bellamy gets his ass whipped at 2K, _repeatedly_ , and finally gives up, passing the controller to Jasper, who’s some sort of god at the game. Meanwhile, he’s internally tormenting himself because does it look like he has feelings for Clarke?

There’s no way it does, Bellamy tells himself as he watches Murphy go down swinging, logging the worst score any of them have ever seen. He doesn’t have feelings for Clarke, it would be impossible? They only just started being friends a couple months ago, they nearly hated each other in June. The broken plate is enough evidence of that.

It’s just not logical. She’s one of his closest friends, and he knows better than to date in his friend group. It happened with Roma in high school, and when they broke up, rather messily, things kind of went to shit for a while after. Even if he did have feelings for Clarke, he wouldn’t risk their friend group. Because then if they broke up there’d be more fighting and it’d be awkward and they live together for god’s sake.

So not only is it never going to happen because it would be awkward, he doesn’t have feelings for her in the first place. So suck it Miller.

* * *

 

Clarke’s grabbing coffee before work when the vultures descend on her. The vultures being Raven and Octavia. She nearly drops her coffee when Raven jabs her with one of her crutches. It’s her last week on crutches, thank fuck, but those things are still evil.

“Spill.” Raven demands, “you never called me last night.”

Clarke grabs a couple napkins. “What, no hello, no good morning?”

Raven frowns and adjusts her crutches under her. Today’s her first day of PT, and the day she gets her knee brace. PT isn’t with Octavia, but it’s at Octavia’s facility, so at least Raven won’t be totally alone. She’s pretty sure that Emori is going with her today. Clarke was planning to go with her too, but work got in the way. “You didn’t call me last night, so I had to ambush you here. So spill.”

Clarke shrugs a bit, thinking back to her date with Lexa. It was fun, and she had a good time. “It was good,” Clarke tells her friends, and Octavia rolls her eyes.

“Just good? Come on, you’ve got to have something better than that.”

Clarke shoves her a bit as they walk out of the door of the coffee shop. “It was good, I had fun. We went to a bar, but you two already know that.”

“It was just a precaution! For all we knew she could have been a murderer,” Raven says in defense, and Clarke thinks back to the morning of her date when all of her girls decided that they needed her location just in case. Honestly, it was a really smart idea, but she had to pretend to be exasperated. “So? Are you gonna tell us more or do we have to find her and demand that she tell us what happened?”

“God, you two are the worst. It was fun, she was fun. We got a few drinks and some dinner and then walked around in Old Town Boston. It was fun. We have another date next week,” Clarke says, thinking of Lexa making plans for next week.

Raven grins widely, “so you see this as a relationship option?” Clarke blushes a bit, and Raven’s grin only grows. “Atta girl. Man, I can’t wait till you two get married and I can tell everyone how you were high off of your mind and hit on her.”

Clarke laughs, her cheeks turning pinker. “She said it was cute, so I somehow did something right.”

Raven whoops and elbows Clarke in the side playfully. “I knew you could do it Griffin!”

But Octavia is frowning, and Clarke frowns back. “What?”

“I want to meet her,” she declares, and Raven nods rapidly as well. Clarke groans. “We have to decide if she’s good enough for you!”

“It’s been one date!”

“One date with another planned,” Octavia counters and Clarke groans again, because she’s got her there. It was before Octavia’s second date with Lincoln that she met him. Granted, they all lived in the same dorm room at the time, so it was impossible to _not_ meet him, but now it’s Clarke’s turn to deal with this. “It doesn’t have to be right away, but the last thing that we want is for it to go on for weeks and we still haven’t met her. Because if you haven’t noticed, Clarke, we care about you. And we don’t want you to get hurt.”

Clarke tries to be annoyed, but honestly she can’t be. They’re just trying to keep her safe. She’d do it for them, too. That’s what they do: they protect each other. They’ve been doing it since college, ever since Raven was catapulted into their lives. And they’re probably not gonna stop, ever.

“Fine,” Clarke finally says, pretending to be exasperated. “Give me time to prepare her. You two aren’t exactly the easiest interrogators.”

Octavia grins a bit wickedly, whooping loudly as they end up back near Clarke’s car. “Emori and Harper too. They have just as much a right to this interrogation as we do.”

“You guys are going to kill me, I swear,” she mutters, bidding the two goodbye before going off to her two day shift.

* * *

 

“So Octavia is the one who looks like she could kill you, and will, and Raven is the one with the knee brace. She could also kill you if she wanted to. I’m kind of still scared of her,” Clarke rambles as she pulls up to Raven and Octavia’s apartment with Lexa in tow. She’s nervous. Anxiety is practically rolling off of her in waves and her stomach is in knots.

She wants her friends to like the person that she might end up seeing. They haven’t really defined it yet, but they’ve been on two dates and have another one coming up, so it’s going well. And she likes Lexa, she’s attracted to her and likes the fire that she has within her. So her friends liking her is almost necessary.

“And then Harper’s the big softie, but could still take me in a fight. I’m scared of Emori but I would also probably die for her, she’s the one with the big tattoo on her shoulder,” Clarke explains, quickly adding, “I’d die for any of them but—”

“So what you’re saying is that all of your friends could kill me if they tried.”

Clarke swallows and turns a bit to face the woman in the passenger seat. “Yes. You could probably kill them too, but I don’t recommend that if you want them to like you. Monty probably wouldn’t kill you, and Bellamy would pretend to be tough but he’s just a big softie.”

Lexa rolls her eyes a bit, and glances up at the apartment building. “Well, let’s get going. Don’t want to keep them waiting, especially if they have the chance to kill me.”

Clarke snorts and swats her shoulder lightly before climbing out of her car. Lexa follows her up to the steps and Clarke doesn’t hesitate to walk through the door. “Hey hooker!” Raven calls from inside and Clarke grins a bit, letting Lexa in behind her. Their customary call when someone got home when they all lived in the dorms together. It lead to a couple awkward conversations, especially when their RA would walk in or worse, Bellamy.

“Back at you,” Clarke calls back, and Raven pops her head out from the kitchen. She grins, her eyes zeroing in on the brunette behind Clarke.

Raven lumbers into the living room leaning heavily on the crutch she has under her arm. Her PT has been going well, but this morning’s session was rough so she’s a little tired. “Well, well, well. So this is Lexa.”

Clarke purses her lips a bit and steps aside. “Yep. This is Lexa. This is Raven,” Clarke adds, and Lexa nods, tipping her head at Raven. “The two on the couch are Emori and Harper, and Octavia is somewhere…”

“She’s getting more wine, she’ll be back in a few.”

“Of course she is,” Clarke snickers, dropping her bag by the front door and kicking off her shoes. She hasn’t been to a wine night in a couple weeks, she missed the first because of her first date with Lexa, and the second because of work, so she’s excited to be with her friends. Obviously, they’re excited to see her too, as Emori and Harper whoop when Clarke enters the living room.

“Missed you Griffin!” Emori says, grinning at her.

Clarke grins back, collapsing into her usual spot on the rug by the coffee table. Lexa follows, somewhat slowly, and Clarke gives her a reassuring grin. She wants this to go well, but she can definitely see how Lexa would feel out of place. They’re a tight knit group, and it’s always been difficult to let someone in. But she hopes that it’s possible, especially because this is the first person she’s considered dating in years.

Harper doesn’t give Lexa a chance to breathe before she’s grabbing a spare wine glass for her. “Red or white?” She asks, giving a welcoming smile to Lexa.

“Uh, red is fine,” Lexa responds shortly, and Harper pours it out quickly before pouring Clarke a glass of white.

Clarke takes a large gulp of her wine as Emori settles in to the couch. Raven claims her spot in her chair and watches Lexa intently. “So,” Emori says, a hint of laughter in her voice. “How’d you feel when Clarke started hitting on you?”

“Please, anything but this,” Clarke groans, but Lexa only shrugs a bit, glancing sideways at the blonde.

“It was—it was amusing,” she finally says, and Clarke watches as Raven raises a brow.

“Only amusing? I thought it was hysterical. Nearly peed myself.”

Emori snorts into her glass. “God, I wish I had been there.”

“It’s definitely in my Top 5 Clarke moments,” Raven says, giving a pointed grin to Clarke.

Now Lexa raises a brow. “May I ask what those five are?”

“Oh, I’m so glad we got to this point already,” Raven snickers, and then launches into an explanation of Clarke’s most embarrassing moments. She’s halfway through the story about Clarke getting angry during a drunk gingerbread house building contest around Christmas time when Octavia busts through the front door.

“I have more wine,” she says, taking her jacket off, “I hope you at least left me a little of—” She stops when she turns around. Her eyes swing to Lexa and they narrow momentarily. Her eyebrows do the thing that they do when she’s thinking, and then her face relaxes. She grins. “Ah. Hello.”

“This is Octavia,” Clarke tells Lexa, “she was my first roommate in college. She’s dealt with all of my shit for my longest.

Octavia rolls her eyes, “and the best I might add.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Clarke responds, waving her hand and finishing her glass. Harper pours her another one quickly, and the conversation continues.

Lexa doesn’t say much as the night wears on, and honestly Clarke doesn’t blame her. Her friends are kind of intense, and spend a lot of the time covertly questioning Lexa about her life _and_ her intentions. She doesn’t give away much, but that doesn’t deter her friends, as they just keep going. Truthfully, Clarke doesn’t know much about her yet either. She’s very selective about what she says, and usually that would annoy Clarke, but she has secrets too.

Octavia doesn’t say much either, and Clarke knows it’s because she’s watching Lexa. Watching how she interacts, what she says. Raven makes up for it, almost talking _too_ much. But she has fun with her friends, and they laugh and they drink way too much wine.

* * *

 

Bellamy meets Lexa and immediately is not fond of her. Now, he always tries to like the people that his friends are dating, but there’s just something about her that rubs him the wrong way. Maybe it’s the fact that she doesn’t say much around any of their friends, or that she always has something for Clarke to do with her, but there’s something.

He meets her in the grocery store that he and Clarke shop at. It’s the first Saturday in weeks that they’ve both had off, and their apartment is desperate for food. So they take the trip together, and bicker the entire way.

Currently, they’re arguing about what type of chips to buy (Bellamy wants Lays, Clarke wants Doritos, and he cannot stand Doritos) when Clarke turns around suddenly.

“Lexa!” He spins on his heel, both Lays and Doritos in his hand and frowns at the two women in front of him. Clarke is smiling widely and the brunette looks mildly uncomfortable. “Uh, Lexa this is Bellamy, Bellamy this is Lexa. He’s my—”

“Roommate, I know,” Lexa says, reaching out a hand to shake. Bellamy glances at the bags of chips in his hands and drops them both into the cart quickly. Clarke grins smugly and he ignores it as he shakes Lexa’s hand. It’s formal, and her eyes are cold and her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s nice to meet you.” It doesn’t sound like it, but maybe that’s just him.

“You too,” he replies, and he notices Clarke watching them anxiously. So he forces a grin onto his face for Clarke, and asks Lexa how she’s doing. They talk for a minute, before she has to rush off to continue her shopping.

Clarke, for her part, waits until Lexa is out of earshot to speak up. “So?”

“So what?” He asks, feigning dumb.

She nudges his side with an elbow as they continue their shopping. He knows what she’s asking. He just doesn’t know if he wants to answer. “You know.”

“It was a 60-second conversation, Clarke,” he grumbles, fond of her insistence. But Lexa’s coldness doesn’t make him exactly feel thrilled about her new relationship. “I guess I just have to meet her again.”

“What, and embarrass me more? Raven already did that enough.”

Bellamy snorts a bit, grabbing a bag of grapes from the produce section. “Well, now I have to do it. It’s my job.”

“Mother hen,” she hums, grinning at him. But he can’t deny that one.

“I’m just making sure you’re going to be treated right. Because you know Octavia, Raven, Harper, and Emori would be very upset if anything went wrong, not to mention Monty and Jasper,” he tells her, and she frowns.

“Oh, and not you too?”

“What, you think I like you? That living with you for a few months is enough to reverse the obvious hatred I have for you?”

She shoves his shoulder lightly and he smiles at her, as she complains about his need to be an absolute ass all of the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now it begins!!
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay here's the next chapter! this one is a little shorter than what i would like, but it builds up into the next few chapters, which are going to be longer. this is also probably riddled with errors, but i was excited to post this, so bear with me. 
> 
> a lot of this part of the story is focused on bellamy and his feelings, as well as clarke and her character development. these next few chapters are probably some of the most angsty chapters i've ever written in succession, just because there is so much going on. also, i like to keep things close to canon, for certain things, so some things that happen in these next few chapters will relate to what we saw in the show. i hope y'all can pick up on some of it!
> 
> anyways, i'm out of town again but i'll be back in like 3 days, but except a chapter on maybe friday or saturday? one of those days for sure. i hope y'all enjoy!

“I don’t like her,” is the first thing that Octavia says when Bellamy picks up his phone. He pulls it back and blinks at her tone. Raven, for her part, only shrugs and buckles herself into the front seat of his car.

“You know that I’m about to drive to your building, correct?” Raven has her PT session this evening, and she asked if he would go with her. Well, first she asked Clarke, and Clarke said she couldn’t go, so he’s second best. But he doesn’t mind. It’s an important session today; she’s walking for the first time, and she didn’t want to be alone. He’s more than happy to go with her because this is a big day and she needs moral support.

Octavia huffs on the phone. “Well, yeah. But then you’ll be in with Raven and I’ll be in a session, so I have to talk to you now.”

Bellamy rubs his eyes quickly and then sighs, shifting the car into drive. “Alright. Who don’t you like?”

He hears her shift the phone and then she grumbles out, “Clarke’s girlfriend. And I know I should like her! Because Clarke’s happy and in a relationship for the first time in years! But she’s so cold, Bellamy. Like, she smiled twice at wine night. Twice! I smile twice doing things I can’t stand! Like laundry! But wine night is fun, you’re supposed to smile!”

Bellamy frowns. He knew his sister would be critical of whoever her friends date, but he didn’t think it would be like this. “O—”

“And ever since they officially started dating I’ve seen Clarke once! It’s been a month, Bellamy! She’s one of my best friends and I haven’t seen her in a month. And it’s not just me!” She hurries, as Bellamy tries to get a word in. He pulls to a stop at a stoplight and Raven raises her brows. “Harper was supposed to meet her for lunch and then Clarke cancelled because Lexa needed help with something! _And_ Emori asked if she would help draw up some new designs for the tattoo parlor and Clarke said she would and then never did! It’s like she’s fucking—”

“Octavia,” Bellamy says calmly, “take a breath, or you’re going to pass out from speaking too quickly.” He hears her take a sharp breath. “Good. Now, I’m sure it’s just the new relationship jitters. Sometimes that happens. Do I have to remind you what happened when you started seeing Lincoln?” It was like he didn’t exist anymore. Granted, it was only a couple of weeks and they were right back to arguing, but still.

“No,” she stresses as he turns down the road to the PT. “I remember. But I snapped out of it.”

“And Clarke will too,” he reassures, but something like dread settles in his stomach. “It might just take her a couple weeks.”

Octavia huffs again on the phone as the car comes to a stop outside of the building. “Yeah, well, I still don’t like her. She’s just too stoic. Clarke needs someone happy and positive, to combat all of that negativity that she has. Lexa isn’t that person.”

“Maybe we don’t know her well enough,” he reasons, trying to find the good in the woman. But, god it’s difficult. Because he’s seeing the same things that Octavia is.

“Maybe,” she says, but she sounds unconvinced, “I don’t like her. And I’ve tried, I really have. But there’s just something about her that makes me feel uneasy. I don’t trust her and I’m worried she’s gonna hurt Clarke in the end.”

He thinks on that for a moment, because same. Clarke’s one of his best friends. _Of course_ he’d be protective of her. And honestly, in the few times he’s met and talked to Lexa, he’s not too keen on her either. But he’s gonna pretend he is. “We just have to get to know her, O. Invite her out with us, to the bar. Get her to drink something, maybe she’ll smile.”

Octavia huffs again. “Yeah, okay. I’m going to try to be better. I’ll invite her over. But let the record show that I don’t think she’s good for Clarke.” Yeah, him too. But he’s sure as hell not gonna be the one to say it.

Bellamy rolls his eyes and bids her goodbye, reminding her that he’ll be inside in a minute. Raven raises a brow and says, “she doesn’t like Lexa.” It’s a statement. That means it’s been discussed, probably at length knowing his sister.

“Nope,” he says, turning to her. “Do you?”

Now Raven drops her gaze, and shrugs. “I don’t know. I agree that she’s not as warm as I would like,” she says, struggling for words, “and I haven’t seen Clarke in a while either. She was supposed to come with me today, but Lexa asked her over. But Clarke is happy right now, and I’m doing my best to accept it. I haven’t decided yet. But I’m trying my best.” He knows that it’s difficult for her to accept people into her life. So the fact that she’s trying to accept someone that she doesn’t know if she even likes is huge.

Bellamy nods and gets out before going around to the other side. He helps Raven out slowly, and says, “we can try our best together. Cause I’m still skeptical too.”

Now she rolls her eyes in typical Raven fashion as he follows her into the PT. “Of course you are.”

He frowns. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Raven only shrugs, but the look she gives him is one mixed with pity and amusement. “No reason. You’re just the hardest to impress.” He can’t argue with that, but he’s still frowning.

The PT session is a success. Raven takes three steps on her own, without the big, clunky brace. Granted, she still had a wrap on her knee. But three steps is huge, and he can tell that she’s proud of herself. Hell, he’s proud of her too. Raven Reyes really is unstoppable.

Now more than ever he wishes Clarke was here to see it.

* * *

 

“Hey, so, I want you to meet my friends.” Clarke looks up from her spot on Lexa’s couch. They’ve been hanging out over there a lot more recently, especially since Bellamy got irritated about the TV being too loud. She called him an old man but he only scowled at her and waved the assignments he was grading in her face. Ever since then when she knows he’s grading she tries to keep the TV down, or stay out of the apartment.

She raises a brow. “Oh?” This is the first time she’s even suggested that Clarke meet her friends. The first time she’s even said more about her life than the typical things. It’s taken her a very long time to open up. “When?”

Lexa shrugs back, putting things away in the cabinets. “Probably tomorrow? They’re coming over.”

Clarke grins a bit, “then yeah, sure. You met my friends, it’s only fair that I meet yours.” She doesn’t mention that Lexa meeting the rest of her friends was close to disastrous. Granted, there was a huge storm that night so everything was already a mess, but the night was a struggle. She doesn’t even want to think about it.

“So tomorrow night works?” Clarke thinks for a moment, and then nods. She doesn’t usually have things on Friday nights. Wine night is bi-weekly, and she knows for a fact this is their off week. Well, she’s pretty sure it’s their off week. Besides, her friends would understand. She had to reschedule lunch with Harper and she’s going into Emori’s parlor tomorrow morning to help, but she doesn’t want to cancel on them _again_. “Sounds good.”

Clarke nods again as Lexa sits down next to her, pulling a pillow into her lap. Clarke puts her feet up on the coffee table, and when Lexa makes a bit of a face, she puts them down. She forgets that she hates that. Clarke’s just so used to putting her feet up, sprawling them across Bellamy’s so she can reach the table, that she forgets sometimes. “What are they like? Your friends, I mean.”

“Nothing like yours,” is what Lexa starts with and Clarke raises a brow. “I only say that because there aren’t as many. There’s Gustus, Costia, Tris, and Titus. Ontari moved across the country, so we don’t see her very often, but there aren’t many. They aren’t as… wild.” Lexa says, a bit of a pause in her voice and Clarke almost grins. Because on the very night that Lexa met her friends, Jasper decided it was time to break out the old beer pong table. Things got a little crazy. Crazy as in Jasper almost fought Murphy, but that’s a usual occurrence. It just gets amplified when beer pong is involved.

But Clarke snorts, pulling a pillow into her lap as well. “Oh, come on. They aren’t crazy. You just happened to be there on one of the crazier nights. Next time I’m sure it won’t be as crazy. Except Uno night. All bets are off on Uno night.” Lexa raises a brow at the mention of _next time_ , and Clarke raises one back. “What?”

She shrugs again, turning on the TV. “I just didn’t think your friends liked me,” she says, and Clarke gapes. Because of course her friends like her, they’re all happy for her. They would’ve said something if they didn’t like her. Or, she hopes they would say something. “Not all of them, of course, but I don’t think Octavia does. Or Bellamy.”

Clarke sputters, “okay, no. I’m sure they like you. Why wouldn’t they?” She says, and Lexa looks back at her, her eyes wide and hopeful. “Octavia just… she takes a while to warm up to people. It took her a while with me, too. And Bellamy’s just a mother hen and he wants to make sure I’m safe and in a good relationship. My last one, obviously, was not the best.” She told Lexa about Finn, and consequently, about Raven. Lexa was amused about the situation, and found it funny that Raven stayed friends with the woman who broke up her relationship.

“It just doesn’t seem like they’re going to,” she says, and Clarke frowns before leaning over and kissing her cheek.

“Oh, come on. It’s been what, a month and a half? Give it time. Promise.”

Lexa gives her a small smile, and leans back over to kiss her.

* * *

 

Clarke grins when she sees Raven in the coffee shop. She hasn’t seen her friend in a couple weeks and is dying to tell someone about Lexa’s friends.

But, when Raven sees her, her eyes narrow and her nostrils flare. Clarke stands dumbfounded in line, not even noticing that she’s up next. She fumbles through her order, continuing to glance back at Raven who’s not looking at her. Did something happen that she doesn’t know about? Yeah, she’s been busy, but she’s sure she would have heard if something was wrong. Did something happen with her knee?

Clarke gets her drink and slowly makes her way to Raven’s table, glancing down at the papers. Budgeting. Her least favorite thing to do. The shop is bringing in a lot of cash, but since her surgery and because of the rehabilitation fees she’s had to figure some numbers out. She can’t do a lot of the work right now, so Clarke thinks she has to hire someone else to help.

“Hey,” Clarke says slowly, and Raven glances up for a second. “Can I sit?” She makes a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat, and Clarke waits for a moment before sitting down. Raven still won’t look up at her, the pen gripped tightly in her fingers. “Is everything okay, Raven?”

The brunette finally looks up and Clarke finds a lot of emotions on her face. She excepted some of them. Anger, confusion, for sure. But disappointment? That was not on the list of emotions that Clarke had in mind. “I dunno, is it Clarke?”

Now, Clarke frowns. She and Raven made a deal all of those years ago to be open with one another about their issues. It’s been going great since then; they’ve been able to work everything out before it became a huge issue. But right now, it’s obvious that Raven is _not_ happy about something. “Did I do something?” Clarke finally says, and Raven swallows, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“Do you remember what we do with our friends every two weeks? Usually on Friday nights? Harper and Emori are there, Octavia too?”

“Yeah,” Clarke says slowly, “wine night.” Then, the realization of what she’s done hits her like a pile of bricks. “Fuck,” she manages quietly, staring at Raven with wide eyes. “ _Fuck_ , I missed it.” Raven doesn’t say anything, but it confirms her words. “Raven, I’m so sorry. I totally lost track of the days, and then agreed to meet Lexa’s friends—” those were apparently the wrong choice of words, because Raven’s eyes spark dangerously. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I lost track of days. I got off of the schedule.”

“Mhmm.”

Clarke blinks, looking down at her coffee mug. Guilt floods her, because she was _so sure_ she had the right week. She really should get this on a calendar. Then, she feels even worse because she was _so sure_ her friends would understand. She thought wrong. Fuck. She feels disappointed in herself, because even when they have to miss a night, they always text. Just in case, just to assure the others that they’re okay. She looks back up to find Raven frowning at her.

“I’m sorry—” She starts to say, but Raven holds up a hand. And then she sighs, slumping against her chair. “I’m sorry,” Clarke repeats, but her voice is very small and very quiet.

Raven is quiet for a few minutes, tapping her pen in a way that she knows gets Clarke annoyed. But frankly, Clarke doesn’t think she has a say in that right now. “I don’t want to say it’s okay,” Raven finally says, looking back at Clarke. “Because it’s not. We were worried about you, and then when we checked your location you were at an apartment we didn’t recognize. Then we figured out where you were and felt better. Kind of,” Raven mutters, and Clarke knows she’s struggling to get her words out in a way that won’t attract the attention of the entire store.

“You didn’t tell us, and that hurt, Clarke. I know you probably just forgot, and that makes sense, we all forget things from time to time, but you didn’t even tell us you were with your girlfriend. It really just—not to sound like a high schooler, but it really felt like you ditched us.” Clarke grimaces, because she knows she did. Even if it was unintentionally.

“I’m—”

“Sorry, I know,” Raven says, the fight leaving her. “It’s not okay, but I forgive you because you’re my best friend and I can’t stay angry at you for very long. I don’t care that you miss a night, we all have things that come up, but a text would’ve been nice. Just—try not to let it happen again. It hurt,” Raven finally admits, and then Clarke feels very, very guilty. Because the last thing she wants to do is hurt any of her friends, especially not Raven. She doesn’t want to be the one causing her pain, especially not after everything that’s happened in her life.

“It won’t,” Clarke reassures quickly, nodding at Raven. Her friend still looks suspicious, and her eyes are still narrow, but she nods. “It won’t. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Raven says, looking back down at her papers. “It’ll just make me angry again.”

Clarke swallows down her apologies with a frown.

She still feels incredibly guilty.

* * *

 

Bellamy has been having a bad day. Again. Bad days have been a constant this month. He knows it's because Thanksgiving break is in two weeks, but still. He just wants a break.

So when he walks into his apartment, ready to collapse into his bed and sleep until his alarm goes off tomorrow morning, and finds Lexa on his couch, you can say his mood gets even worse. Something like annoyance bubbles deep within him and he frowns when he hears Clarke’s laughter.

“Hey, Bellamy!”

He grunts in response, yanking his coat off and hanging it on the hook. He just wanted a quiet, nice night to relax in his apartment, with one of his best friends. And sure, he gets it. She’s in a relationship, so he can’t have all of her time. But when she’s been either out, or with Lexa in their apartment every night for the last three days, it’s not hard to start to miss her.

“Bad day?”

But he plasters something that he hopes looks like a smile onto his face, and steps into the living room. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“What’d they do this time?” She asks, a bright smile on her face.

“They decided they were going to overthrow the teachers and demand more days off,” he mutters, and Clarke laughs a bit.

“Did they win?”

“Yes, and now I’m out of a job,” he responds, and she grins when she realizes he’s joking. And then he remembers that Lexa is sitting on his couch, Clarke’s head in her lap, and he frowns momentarily. And then he remembers he has to be polite, and forces another smile. “Lexa.”

“Bellamy,” she responds, just as politely. He stands for a moment, and he watches Clarke look between the two of them anxiously. They don’t get along. Granted, they’ve spoken to each other a handful of times, but he’s officially decided that he doesn’t like her. She rubs him the wrong way, and she doesn’t make an effort with him, despite him trying.

“I’m—I’m gonna go take a nap. I’ll leave you two,” he mutters, and bids them goodbye before locking himself in his room.

It’s been a long day, and he thinks it’s only going to get longer. And that somehow, this situation is only going to get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man, oh man, bellamy you don't know the half of it (let me just say i love knowing what's gonna happen bc i can tease this and y'all can only imagine lol)
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay sorry for the extra day wait! i was planning to get this posted yesterday, but then some stuff came up and i was unable to. but it's here! 
> 
> let me just say that y'all's comments make me so happy! some of y'all are picking up on hints and wow, it makes me feel so happy that y'all are enjoying this! that being said, the next couple chapters are a doozy. things are gonna get difficult and things are gonna be bleak. so hopefully y'all can stick with me through these chapters because it's not gonna stay like this forever i promise
> 
> also this probably has so many errors but i was tired of staring at this chapter so i had to get up. i struggled with this one too, mostly because i'm not great at writing Lexa. she's never been my favorite character to write, so if she seems a little off in how she speaks or how she's portrayed, that's probably my fault. i'm still learning too as i write, and i'm thankful that i get to do that during this story.
> 
> anyways enough of my rambling, i hope y'all enjoy!!

Clarke wakes up a few days before Thanksgiving to her mother’s phone call. She fumbles on the nightstand where she left her phone, quickly managing to press on the answer call button.

“Hello?”

“Clarke!” Abby’s voice is bright and cheery and Clarke stifles a groan. It’s 7 am on a Wednesday, and Clarke is not a morning person. On top of that, it’s her first day off in four days and she was excited to sleep in. “Did I wake you?”

“Hmph,” she grumbles, rolling to see if Lexa is still in bed, but finds it empty. “Yeah, but it’s fine.” Clarke rubs at her eyes, curling back in to Lexa’s comforter. “Is everything okay?”

The phone shifts and Clarke’s eyes close momentarily before her mother starts speaking quickly again. “Yes, everything’s fine. I was just wondering if you had Thanksgiving plans? I know you usually do something the day before Thanksgiving with your friends, but I haven’t had you for Thanksgiving in a while. And I haven’t met your girlfriend yet, who you’ve been dating for two months.”

The blonde in bed frowns. It’s not like she’s been trying to keep her mother and Lexa from meeting one another, it honestly just hasn’t happened yet. Clarke’s been working an insane amount, and since Abby and Kane live an hour and a half away it’s sometimes difficult to get there. But Abby has a point: Clarke hasn’t spent Thanksgiving with them in a while.

“Thanksgiving is Thursday?” Clarke asks groggily, trying to wake herself up more. Abby makes a noise that she takes as a yes. “Okay. Let me talk to her, and see what she says. I don’t know if she has plans with her friends, or anything, so I’ll let you know by tomorrow?”

“Sounds good, Clarke. Love you honey!”

Clarke mumbles her love back, before dropping her phone and pressing her face back into the pillow. She hears Lexa’s quiet tread in the hallway. “Are you awake?”

“Unfortunately,” Clarke grumbles back, peaking out to find her girlfriend standing in the doorway with a mug of coffee. “My mom called.”

Lexa raises a brow, setting the mug on her nightstand and flopping back down onto her bed. “Everything okay?”

Clarke rolls and rests up on her elbows to look at her girlfriend. “Yeah, she’s good. She was asking about Thanksgiving. I usually do Thanksgiving with my friends the day before, but she wanted to know if we wanted to celebrate with her?” Clarke rambles, her words leaving her very quickly, and it takes Lexa a moment to process. Clarke chews on her lip as Lexa thinks it over. “I know it’s only been two months, but my mom is like my friends, she just wants to make sure that I’m okay and happy and—”

“Hey,” Lexa starts, quietly, “I’ll go.” Clarke _beams_. “I’d be happy to go. It’s your mom and your stepdad, right?” Clarke nods. “Cool. Sounds good.”

“Really?”

Lexa nods again and Clarke dips down to kiss her cheek. “Cool.”

“Also, I wanted to ask,” Lexa starts, sitting up against the headboard and reaching for her mug. “I know that you just said that you usually spend the day before Thanksgiving with your friends, but my friends and I do the same thing, and they asked if you wanted to come. It’s okay if you can’t, but they really like you and want to see more of you.”

Clarke chews on her lip, “I don’t know.” She finally says, mulling it over. “Raven loves Thanksgiving.” And Raven finally stopped being upset about the whole wine night thing, the last thing that Clarke wants to do is make her angry again.

“It’s just something to think about,” Lexa tells her, but Clarke is still thinking. “Maybe, if you want to, you split the day in half. Eat with your friends, and go to Gustus’ before or after.”

“Maybe,” Clarke says quietly, resting her head back onto her pillow. “Thanksgiving is just a tricky holiday. I don’t want to miss it. But you’re sure about going to my mom’s?” Lexa nods and Clarke grins. “Sweet.” 

* * *

 

“I cannot wait until this goddamn brace is off of me,” Raven grumbles, kicking her leg up onto the coffee table. Bellamy snorts as he collapses next to her with a file of papers to grade. “I know that it’s only until February, but god, this sucks.”

“Don’t you get the brace off sooner than February? I know they’re saying you should be recovered by February, but I would hope that the brace comes off sooner,” Bellamy says, pulling a pen out of his backpack.

Raven pauses, and then sighs. “I’m deciding not to get my hopes up. Because I’m sure I get it off sooner but February is all that I’m thinking.”

“Fair,” he says, staring down at the papers in front of him. The week before Thanksgiving break sucks. The kids have given up, he’s given up, he just wants a break. He wants to be able to sleep in for a few days, even if his version of sleeping in is only till eight-thirty.

Raven’s quiet for a few minutes as he gets started, and he scratches marks onto the paper. They’ve gotten closer in the past few weeks, with Clarke spending so much time with Lexa. He knows that Raven misses her, and Octavia is so busy most of the time with work, so the past few days she’s been coming over to his apartment and hanging out for a little He’s happy to have the company; it’s been lonely without Clarke. “So,” Raven finally says, after some twenty minutes of silence.

“So?” He turns when she doesn’t answer, and then she diverts her eyes. Bellamy raises a brow, watching her cheeks turn pink. _Pink_. Raven’s _blushing_. Raven doesn’t blush. “So, what?” He asks again, and she plucks at a string on her sweatshirt.

“So, you remember the person who found me in the woods. The day of my accident.”

Bellamy nods, his eyes narrowing. He sets his pen down on the table. “The guy. Zeke, was it?”

Raven nods back, barely meeting his eyes before looking away. “He came into my shop the other day.”

“Uh-huh,” Bellamy replies, watching Raven’s cheeks turn even pinker.

“And he asked if I was okay,” she adds.

Suddenly, it hits him. Bellamy laughs loudly. “Oh my god. You’re into him.”

“I’m—no, I’m—don’t do that!” Raven splutters, but Bellamy can only grin.

“Oh, you’re so into him.”

She whacks him with a pillow. “I’m not—”

“And how do you explain the fact that you’re blushing? I thought you didn’t have feelings—” She whacks him again, knocking his glasses down his nose.

“Bellamy Blake, I will murder you if you—”

“I cannot believe that you’re into him,” he says, quickly scrambling up so she can’t follow him. So she throws the pillow, narrowly missing the lamp. He only snickers, tossing it back and hitting her squarely in the nose. “Raven Reyes you are into him.”

“I’m not yet,” she huffs, but it seems unconvincing.

“Is he into you?” Bellamy asks, cautiously moving back to his couch. She scowls, her eyes flashing a bit, but this time it’s with laughter. She hits him lightly, but there’s no anger in it.

Raven chews on her lip, pointedly avoiding his gaze. “I don’t know. I gave him a job.”

Now, Bellamy’s the one to splutter. “You—you gave him a _job_? You never give anyone a job!”

“He needed one!”

“Oh, but when Jasper needed a job—”

Raven throws her hands up, but she’s grinning. “Jasper’s not a mechanic!”

“And he is?”

When Raven’s silent, Bellamy can hardly believe it. “Oh my god, it’s a man after your own heart.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles, but he can’t stop now, this is just _too_ good.

“When’s the wedding? I have to ask off for work,” he says, laughing loudly and brightly. Her face only turns redder, and he cannot believe this. “This is the best day of my life, I can’t wait. When can I meet him?”

“Bellamy!” Raven says, biting on her lip to keep from smiling. “Don’t do this! You don’t have to mother hen me!”

“Oh, but I do.”

She huffs, sinking in to the couch. “There can’t be a wedding unless we start dating. And you can’t meet him, either.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes, trying but failing to stop smiling. “I’ll just show up one day. Without telling you. And then I’ll have to meet him.”

“This is why no one tells you anything,” Raven jabs, and he feigns hurt. Her face falls after a moment, and then she looks very sad. “I wanted to tell Clarke,” she mutters, looking down at her hands. “But Clarke isn’t here, so I can’t.”

And then suddenly, Bellamy is very, very angry. Something bubbles in his stomach and he clenches his jaw. Because Raven’s right. Clarke isn’t here. And she hasn’t been in the last few days. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw her for more than an hour. Was it Monday? Or was it last week? He knows that she’s been busy with work, her schedule is on the fridge just in case she forgets, but she went straight to Lexa’s the other night after she got off.

Then his anger gets even worse when he remembers that Clarke is his roommate. He lives with her and he hasn’t seen her in _days_. Which certainly means that anyone who doesn’t live with her hasn’t seen her in _weeks_.

Bellamy brushes his hand through his hair, scowling at the anger coursing through him. “This is getting ridiculous,” he finally growls, putting his stuff on the coffee table. “She’s your best friend and you can’t tell her anything because she’s not here.”

“You live with her and you haven’t even seen her,” Raven counters, and Bellamy’s frown deepens. He stands up, trying to find a way to calm himself down. Because he’s pissed at Clarke for disappearing on them because of her girlfriend and he’s pissed at himself for being angry that she’s happy. But how can he be happy for her when she’s been distancing herself from her friends? Has it been intentional? Did they do something? “I don’t know,” Raven says, and Bellamy realizes that he’s spoken aloud.

“I just—” He doesn’t even know how to finish the sentence.

Raven scowls, looking down at her fingers. “I don’t know what we could have done to push her away.” Her voice sounds very small, and a little sad. “I don’t even think we did. She’s just choosing to be with Lexa over us. And I thought that I got through to her a couple weeks ago, but I guess not.”

“It’s not your fault, and it’s not any of our faults,” Bellamy tries to reason, putting his hands on his hips and taking a deep breath to stop himself from getting even more upset. “She just—she hasn’t been in a relationship in a while. Maybe she just doesn’t know how to balance it.”

“She’s an adult,” Raven mutters, her head now in her hands, “I don’t understand. I don’t. She’s been one of my best friends since I was nineteen and now I don’t see her because of her relationship.” They’re quiet for a moment, and Bellamy tries to process the thousand emotions and thoughts running through his head. “I don’t think it’s intentional.”

“You don’t?”

“She seemed pretty clueless when I talked to her about wine night. I think she honestly just got the dates mixed up. And that’s okay, it happens,” Raven manages. “But I miss her, Bellamy. And I don’t think she understands what it’s doing to me, or to you, or to the rest of our friends.”

Bellamy nods slowly, sitting back down onto the couch next to Raven. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know how to even go about thinking about everything he’s feeling at the moment, because it’s so much. And the fact that Raven has noticed what it’s doing to him shows that it’s affecting more than he thought it was.

He’s angry, and he’s upset, and unfortunately, he’s a little jealous. Most importantly, he _misses_ her. Clarke lives down the hall from him and he misses her.

The realization hits him hard, and Bellamy has to swallow down his emotions once again. Maybe there’s more than one reason he doesn’t like Lexa.

* * *

 

Bellamy’s phone starts to buzz and he realizes that it’s Clarke calling. His jaw clenches a bit and he glances around the room to find that everyone is occupied. Raven and Monty are finishing things up in the kitchen, Jasper and Miller are arguing about Mario Kart, and everyone else is watching with amusement. It’s a typical Thanksgiving. Except Clarke isn’t there yet.

He quickly answers the phone and disappears into Octavia’s room, shutting the door quietly so his friends don’t hear. “Hey, are you on the way?”

“Not yet,” she says, and he swallows tightly. He checks the clock on Octavia’s bedside, frowning when he sees the time. It’s two o’clock and they usually eat at three. She’s at least thirty minutes away without traffic. “I think I’m heading out in five minutes. People keep trying to ask me about my life.”

“You’re popular,” he manages, and she laughs a little on the other line. Her laugh warms him up a bit, cracking the cold shell he’s had wrapped around him for a few weeks.

“I wouldn’t say that,” she responds, “more like they’re interrogating me. Like you interrogated Lexa.” His frown deepens.

“I did not.”

‘Mhmm,” Clarke teases, but he’s not really in a teasing mood. “Okay, I gotta go. Tris has been trying to talk about medical school for like, an hour. I’ll let you know when I’m leaving.”

He bids her goodbye and takes a minute to gather himself. He doesn’t want to have to tell their friends that she hasn’t left yet. He has no doubt that Clarke will make it on time, but they’re still gonna be disappointed.

He finally emerges from Octavia’s room and Monty looks at him. “Was that Clarke?” Bellamy nods and reaches for his beer. “She on the way?”

“She said she’d be leaving in five minutes,” Bellamy says, relaying the information to his friend. Monty nods and finishes up the fucking incredible stuffing that he makes. It’s the highlight of Bellamy’s Thanksgiving every year.

But, five minutes later, he doesn’t get a message saying that she’s left. Instead, he gets a “leaving in 5 minutes”. He chooses not to show Raven the message.

And then five minutes pass, and then ten. Then fifteen. And then thirty. He’s trying not to let it get to him. But it is. He thinks it’s getting to everyone, but no one is going to be the person to say it.

By the time it hits three o’clock, he thinks Raven is losing her mind. She hasn’t said anything, but Bellamy knows she’s thinking about it. He checks his phone every five minutes, because maybe she texted to say she was leaving. Maybe she forgot to text, and she’s on her way. Or got held up in traffic. Yeah. That’s gotta be it.

Harper pulls him to the side quarter past three and holds up her phone. He squints at it, realizing that the Find My Friends app is open. He scowls when he realizes where Clarke is.

She’s still at Gustus’ apartment. “What do we do?” Harper says quietly, glancing into the kitchen where Octavia is pouring another glass of wine. She has a bitter expression on her face and Bellamy wouldn’t be lying if he said that he had the same one plastered across his face.

He glances around at the rest of their friends, who are waiting quietly in the living room. “I guess we have to eat. I don’t like it either,” he adds quickly, when Harper goes to protest. “But food’s been ready for half an hour and everyone worked hard on it. We’ve all also been starving ourselves today because of how good we know the food is gonna be.”

Harper grins a bit, but then her smile slips off of her face. “Let’s eat, then. Maybe she’ll get here while we’re still eating.”

Halfway through Thanksgiving dinner, Clarke texts him.

**Clarke** : fuck

Bellamy reads it and slips it back into his pocket. It buzzes again seconds later.

**Clarke** : FUCK

**Clarke** : i lost track of time again im leaving now i promise be there in thirty

His jaw clenches again, and he watches as Raven pulls her phone out of her pocket. He sees messages from Clarke. Raven stares at them for a moment, before turning her phone off. Then, she turns back to Jasper and laughs at his joke.

So Bellamy does the same, and turns back to Jackson and Miller. Bellamy forces a grin and makes himself join into the conversation. He’s angry and upset at Clarke, but he’s not gonna let it ruin the rest of the holiday. This is their favorite day of the year, and he’s going to enjoy it. It doesn’t stop him from thinking about the Clarke shaped hole in their close-knit group.

But they talk, and they laugh, and they enjoy themselves because that’s what the holidays are for. Bellamy has fun. He loves his friends greatly and he’s thankful that he has them.

Bellamy and Murphy are elected to have dish duty and they both scowl, but go happily to the kitchen. They flick soap at each other like children and they nearly break one of Monty’s dishes because they’re playing around too much. He’s just putting the last dish in the dish drain when he hears the door open. Both of them glance towards the door to find Clarke.

Octavia takes one look at her, scowls, and disappears into her room. Lincoln stays in his spot, and the door shuts with a sense of finality. Raven  just stares for a moment. Everyone else has already settled in to the couches or chairs for their customary post-Thanksgiving nap. Clarke looks incredibly guilty and Bellamy and Murphy watch from the kitchen.

“Raven—” Clarke starts to say, but Raven’s eyes flash dangerously.

“Don’t,” she hisses. “Don’t.” The tension is so thick that Bellamy could cut it with a knife if he tried. But he’s not gonna say anything, and neither is anyone else.

There isn’t really anything to say.

Raven doesn’t say anything else, and neither does Clarke. She glances towards him in the kitchen, but Bellamy doesn’t want to say anything. He doesn’t really have anything to say either. He only looks away to grab his beer. He hopes he’s able to mask the disappointment that’s probably on his face, but he’s never been very good at hiding his emotions.

Thanksgiving isn’t very fun after that.

* * *

 

Clarke and Lexa are halfway to Abby’s house when Lexa mentions Clarke’s quiet demeanor. “You alright?” The blonde chews on her lip as Lexa places a hand onto Clarke’s. “Clarke?”

“I messed up,” she finally says, “yesterday. I stayed at Gustus’ too long, and missed dinner. I lost track of time, I didn’t even notice. I was talking to everyone and then I looked at the clock and it was three-thirty. I texted Raven and Bellamy and neither of them responded, and when I got there neither of them would speak to me. I live with Bellamy and he wouldn’t even speak to me. I messed up.”

“Hey,” Lexa starts, but Clarke isn’t done.

“And now I just feel awful, and I know I should because it’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention and then I missed everyone’s favorite holiday of the year. I missed Raven’s favorite holiday.” It’s _their_ holiday. Ever since they met they’ve always loved Thanksgiving together, and Clarke completely missed it. Their first year living together they nearly burnt down the dorm trying to cook a turkey, and since then they’ve been celebrating together. It’s her fondest memory of Raven and Octavia, and her heart aches when she realizes that she’s hurt them.

Lexa opens her mouth, and then closes it. Then she opens it again, “you lost track of time. It happens. Yeah, they might be a little upset right now. But they’re your friends. They should understand. It’s not like any of them haven’t lost track of time either.”

“Never on Thanksgiving,” Clarke murmurs and Lexa frowns.

“Okay, do you want me to say it’s completely your fault and that you ruined Thanksgiving? Because if you want me to, I will. But—” Clarke can’t stop herself from snorting, and she cracks a small grin. “If you talk to them, they should understand. They’re your friends. If they don’t, maybe it’s time for a chance.” Something uneasy settles in Clarke’s stomach at Lexa’s words. She doesn’t want anything to change. She loves her friends, and she knows that they love her too, even if she messed up big time. Clarke pushes away the implications of her girlfriend’s words. “I say just give them a few days, and then explain yourself. And then go from there. It’s not the end of the world. There will be so many more Thanksgiving’s.” She’ll never get that one back, but Lexa’s words do make her feel a little better.

“Thanks,” Clarke finally says, and Lexa gives her a small smile. “Hopefully today will go better than yesterday did.”

“Hey, things went great until like, three. My friends love you.”

“That’s good to hear,” Clarke mutters, and Lexa rolls her eyes.

“They do! They think you’re great. Tris wouldn’t shut up about how cool it is that you’re a nurse,” Clarke grins again, and they get off on a tangent about Lexa’s friends.

All too soon, they’re pulling up to Clarke’s mother’s house. Lexa looks up at it and looks down at herself. “Wow. I am underdressed.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, and gives her a quick kiss. “Oh, you look great. It’s gonna be great. They’re going to love you, because I love you.” It’s not the first time she’s said it to Lexa, but it still gets her heart going every time. Lexa gives her another kiss, a deeper one this time and Clarke allows herself to fall into it for a moment. But then she pulls back, grinning. “Okay. You ready?”

Kane opens the door and gives Clarke a bright smile. “Clarke!” He wraps her in a quick hug, and then turns to the other woman. “You must be Lexa.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Kane.”

Marcus shakes her hand quickly and then waves her off, “oh, please call me Marcus. Mr. Kane makes me sound like I’m eighty years old.”

Lexa nods a little bit, and then follows Clarke and Marcus into the house. They pull their coats off and Clarke nearly collapses at the heavenly smell that’s wafting through the house. She’s missed her mother’s Thanksgiving meal.

Abby gives Clarke a tight hug, and then turns to Lexa, looking her up and down quickly. “Lexa,” Abby finally says with a smile, and Clarke lets out a breath. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” Lexa responds with a smile. “I brought jalapeno corn.”

Abby raises a brow. “I don’t know if I’ve ever had that.”

“Mom, it’s so good. You’ll love it,” Clarke reassures, quickly taking the bag from Lexa and placing it onto the island. “I promise.”

Abby finally smiles, and the four exchange quiet small talk for the next several minutes. Marcus questions Lexa about her life, and her work, and how she got into that field. “It’s just a job, right now. It’s not what I want to do, but I needed to find a job when I graduated college, and they were available.”

“What is it that you want to do, if dental hygiene isn’t your passion?” Marcus asks, a hint of teasing in his voice. Clarke’s not sure if Lexa picks up on it, but she replies anyways.

“Honestly, I really don’t know. I’ve always been told that I’m a leader, but I really don’t know where I want to go with that. I have a degree in political science, and I’m starting an internship next summer in the department of our state representative, so hopefully something will come from that.”

Marcus, who’s been involved in politics his whole life, quickly jumps onto that train and engages Lexa in a conversation about what she would want to do with politics She asks what he was involved in, and he leads her off to his office to show her something, she guesses. Or talk about whatever politicians talk about. Clarke doesn’t care for that profession, she’d much rather stitch people up and perform surgery.

Abby has been strangely quiet, but Clarke knows that part of it is that she’s an observer. She watches, and she learns that way. The two are quiet for a moment, and Clarke glances at the turkey in the oven.

“She’s very pretty,” Abby finally says. “She seems like she has a good idea of who she is and what she wants. Very strong-willed.” Clarke nods, trying to figure out where Abby is going with this. “I’m just a little skeptical.”

“Why?” Clarke asks, genuinely very curious. She wants her mom’s approval on the person that she’s dating. Not that not getting her approval would stop the relationship, but she loves her mother and values her opinion.

“Maybe because I just met her, and need a little more time to get to know her,” Abby reasons, setting the dining room table as she goes. Clarke grabs the plates and follows her. “I don’t know. She’s not who I expected. The way you talk about her, I guess I expected someone… warmer.”

Clarke frowns. Lexa is plenty warm. But considering that that’s a consistent statement with what her friends said, she wants to explore it. “She’s just…” Clarke trails. “She’s not good at meeting new people. She just has to open up to people.”

“Opened up to you quickly,” Abby points out, and Clarke blushes. She thinks about how quickly they started dating, and the feelings that Lexa gives her. Her stomach is on constant rollercoasters, and she’s happy. She hasn’t been happy in a relationship since the first few weeks of her relationship with Finn. So, this is a welcome change. “I just—“

Abby pauses. “I’m skeptical, because I don’t want you getting so caught up in her that you forget about your friends. I don’t know if you’ve been doing that, I don’t live with you or keep tabs on everything that’s going on in your life, but—” Abby stops again. “Just be careful. Don’t forget where you came from. I don’t want something to happen with Lexa and then you end up floundering. That’s all I’m worried about. She seems like a lovely girl and I’m excited to sit down at dinner with her and get to know her. But you’re my baby, and I’m always gonna worry.”

Clarke smiles a bit, giving her mother a hug. “Thanks, Mom. I promise I’ll be careful. I love you.”

“Love you too, Clarke. You ready to eat?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man, abby is spitting the TRUTH. more of her and other's thoughts next chapter. i cannot wait for next chapter, i love confrontation!!!
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr clrxkeblxke!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... how's everyone feeling after that episode, huh? in case you were wondering: i am not feeling, i'm in the abyss. i want to say that this chapter could make y'all feel better from the angst fest we got last night but then i'd be lying because it probably won't. it's literally 6k of angst, angst, and you guessed it, more angst. so, sorry. i'm still learning how to write angst, so hopefully it makes sense lol. but don't worry i'm just as distraught as the rest of y'all
> 
> anyways! i'm going to try to get one or two chapters out before i go out of town to counsel at a summer camp. i'll be gone a week starting on saturday, so don't expect any updates from saturday until next saturday. but i'll try my best to get one out asap when i get home! your comments make my heart sour and i'm so glad that y'all are enjoying this story.
> 
> now, on to the angst!

“I don’t know, Clarke,” Abby says over the phone. It’s a couple weeks after Thanksgiving and Clarke is currently on break at work. “She’s a lovely girl, but she’s not who I expected. She just seems very closed off, and kind of stoic. It’s not who I imagined you would date.”

Clarke huffs, and picks at her lunch. She made it in a hurry this morning when she left for work, and now it’s not appetizing. Not with everything going on. “Who did you expect, Mom?”

Abby sighs, “I don’t know, Clarke. I guess I just—I guess I expected someone with a little more heart. She seems to be very logical and pragmatic, just like you, I might add, and I dunno—” Abby pauses again. “I just expected someone different.”

“I’m sorry it’s not who you wanted,” Clarke replies, suddenly bitter and Abby quickly apologizes.

“Honey, I’m very happy that you’re with someone you love and that you’re happy! I’m glad you’re happy with someone. It’s just not who I expected. Hopefully once I get to know her better, I’ll feel better and my opinion will change. But you know I have to be honest with you, and I don’t think she’s the person for you,” Abby adjusts and Clarke deflates.

Since Thanksgiving, things have been different between Clarke and Lexa. Not a bad different, not a good different, just… different. Clarke can’t place what caused the change, or why there was a change in the first place, but something happened. She gets the feeling that it has something to do with the reactions of her family and her friends, but she’s not sure.

As for her friends… things are… not good. Ever since the Thanksgiving fiasco Raven hasn’t spoken to her. In fact, plenty of her friends are giving her the cold shoulder. Bellamy and Octavia included. Monty and Harper are still talking to her, and Jasper has sent over a couple twitter memes, but nothing too serious. Jackson’s still speaking to her, and Miller’s trying, but Emori and Murphy have stayed out of it, and she can’t blame them. This was her mistake.

The thing is, Clarke knows she fucked up. She knows that missing Thanksgiving was a _terrible_ move. She’s gonna have to talk to her friends and make it up to them, but she doesn’t know if they’ll even listen. She suspects that Monty, Harper, and Jasper would be willing to hear her out, but Octavia and Bellamy? _Raven_? That’s gonna take a little more effort. She doesn’t know how to get through to them, especially when all three are ignoring her entire existence.

It’s even worse with Bellamy because she lives with him. He didn’t speak to her at all the entire first day after Thanksgiving, even though they were both home and in the apartment. She suspects it’s out of solidarity for Raven, who is 100% more pissed off than any of their friends combined.

She knows that she has to fix it. She just doesn’t know if she can.

* * *

 

Bellamy’s exhausted. December sucks. All of the kids are still riding the high from Thanksgiving, and since Christmas break is right around the corner, none of them want to do anything. He’s used to this after a few years of teaching, but his 4th period was especially finnicky today, and he knows he’s got to get everything set up for the next few weeks. Finals for the semester are just around the corner, and he’s got to make sure it’s ready.

But instead of working, he finds himself at a bar with Miller and Murphy. And honestly, he’s happy to take a break. The last few weeks have worn him down, whether it involved school or his social life.

The three are quiet as they all stare off into space for a moment. Murphy finally speaks up, taking a drink from his beer. “Jackson coming tonight?”

Miller shakes his head, looking at his friend. “Nah. He had a three day shift. I stopped by earlier today and he looked like he was about to pass out. He needs his sleep.”

Murphy nods slowly, and then speaks quietly, as if he doesn’t want Bellamy to hear. “Clarke there?”

Bellamy just stares, because talking about the current situation with Clarke is probably enough to make him a little angry again. “Yeah,” Miller replies, glancing back at Bellamy. “She was.”

“How’d she look?”

“Tired,” is what Miller says, and Bellamy can agree. He hasn’t seen her a lot since the incident, but when he does see her, she looks exhausted. He’s noticed that she has been sleeping at home more, especially in the last two weeks, but that isn’t enough. “I dunno. I didn’t talk to her.”

Murphy nods again and takes another swig of his beer. “Emori’s worried about her, but she doesn’t want to get involved.”

“She’s smart,” Miller tells him, “It’s a bad situation. Bad time to have to pick sides. Bellamy, man, you live with her, how is she?”

Bellamy takes a long drink from his glass to avoid having this conversation. He doesn’t want to have this conversation. But his friends look at him with mild interest, and then he grimaces. “If I knew, I’d tell you.”

Both of them raise their brows, and look absolutely bewildered. “What do you mean, _if you knew?_ ”

“I haven’t talked to her,” Bellamy tells them simply.

Murphy splutters. “What do you mean you haven’t talked to her! You’re—you’re Clarke and Bellamy! You live with her!” He throws his hands up a bit and Bellamy takes another long drink from his beer. “Oh, put the beer down and answer the question you asshole.”

“There isn’t much to answer,” he tells them, “we just haven’t really spoken to each other since Thanksgiving. Solidarity with Raven,” he explains, but his friends narrow their eyes.

“Uh-huh,” Miller says, unconvinced. He crosses his arms over his chest, and leans back in his chair. His eyes are narrowed. “Are you mad at her? And don’t lie,” he starts, when Bellamy shakes his head, “I know there’s probably some weird shit going on, but we’re not idiots.”

Now Bellamy is the one to be confused. “Weird shit?”

Murphy rolls his eyes, “what he means is that you two are creepily close.” Bellamy assumes that he has a point. They have gotten close in the past few months. But obviously, that all came crashing down when Thanksgiving happened. Truthfully, it started to crumble when Lexa showed up. He doesn’t want to think about why.

“Are you mad at her?” Miller asks again, slapping Murphy on the head for his previous comment.

He can’t lie to them. Well, he knows he can, but he doesn’t want to, not about Clarke. “Yeah,” is what he finally says. “Not just about Thanksgiving, it’s a lot things.”

“Lexa,” Murphy reasons, and Bellamy swallows. It’s not that he wants to be angry about the Lexa situation. He shouldn’t even be angry with Clarke, because she’s happy. But he is angry because he misses his best friend. “I mean, fair, she has contributed to a lot of this—”

Miller scoffs a bit. “She’s contributed to all of it. I don’t know if she knows it, but Clarke being with her is unintentionally pulling her away from the rest of her friends. And that’s not the reputation you want to have with your girlfriend’s friends.”

Murphy shakes his head, ordering another beer as their waiter comes around. “I mean, I’m not gonna lie and say that I liked her, because I really didn’t, but you’d think that because she has group of friends she’d have enough sense to not pull her girlfriend away from hers.”

“I just don’t understand,” Miller adds, “Clarke is one of our best friends. And I get it, people make mistakes, but this is pretty big mistake to make. She missed Thanksgiving. You don’t miss Thanksgiving.”

Something uncomfortable tugs in his stomach and Bellamy doesn’t want to talk about this. Because he knows it’s eventually going to get back to _why_ he’s mad at Clarke, and what that means. He doesn’t want to understand what it means. He’s happy to live in the world where he’s a little angry at Clarke as opposed to live in the world where he has to face the facts head on.

He has come to realize in the last couple of weeks that he might be nursing a little crush on Clarke. Keyword: might. He’s not really sure, and he doesn’t want to be sure. Because either way, it sucks. If he’s not into her, it sucks because he’s angry at her for being happy. If he’s into her, he’s angry at himself for being angry at her for being happy. He really can’t win in this situation.

And it all comes back to _if_ he’s nursing something for her. He doesn’t even know! He hasn’t seen her enough to process it correctly, and he’s okay with that. But, fuck, he misses her. Especially around the apartment. He misses finding her reminders scattered all over the kitchen and living room. He misses her trying to match all of her socks up after washing them. She has a collection of socks, and it’s hilarious to watch her wear a different pair each day. But he hasn’t seen that recently, because she hasn’t been there.

And that’s what really sucks.

* * *

 

The next wine night that Clarke attends is a disaster. She hasn’t been in a while, not since before Thanksgiving, and she wants to try her luck. Hopefully she’ll be able to sit and try to talk to her friends, and try to make it up to them.

But as soon as the door opens, she knows it was a mistake to come. Harper looks at her with wide, shocked eyes, and Clarke swallows uncomfortably. “Uh—” Clarke looks down at her snow-covered shoes. “I can—I can go.”

Harper shakes her head slowly, as if steeling herself, and then opens the door wider for Clarke to get let in. “No, it’s okay. We just didn’t expect you.” Clarke shakes the snow out of her hair and steps into the living room, which is her first mistake. Octavia spots her immediately, and her jaw clenches.

Emori tries to give her a weak smile, but it falls flat and she chugs her wine. “Why’d everyone get so quiet? Did a ghost—” Raven lumbers into the living room, brace strapped onto her leg. “Clarke.”

“Hi,” she says, somewhat awkwardly, and Raven gapes at her. The room is filled with awkward tension and Clarke wants to turn around and go home.

Raven doesn’t say anything except, “I’m too sober for this.” Clarke deflates. Because that’s not the reaction she wanted from Raven. And then it gets worse when Raven hisses, “you shouldn’t have come.” Octavia straight up gets up from the couch and goes back to her room, the door shutting with a click.

Clarke chews the inside of her cheek and turns around to get her coat. “I’m—I’m gonna go. I’ll talk to you later. Let me know if either of you need a ride,” she says shortly to Emori and Harper, and Harper’s the one who follows her out.

“Clarke!”

“What, Harper?” Clarke asks, with an edge of exhaustion and disappointment in her voice. This is no one’s fault but Clarke’s and she can’t take it out on Harper.

“Just—just give them time. Try coming back in a few days to talk, when they’re not drunk. Don’t beat yourself up about it,” she says gently, resting her hands on Clarke’s crossed arms. “It’s just,” Harper pauses, struggling to find the wrong words, “it’s just a lot right now.”

Clarke nods, blinking quickly to avoid the tears from spilling out of her eyes. “I know. I’ll come back. And I’ll talk to you and Emori too, I promise.” She knows she has to talk to everyone in their friend group, especially her girls. She’ll get there. But Raven and Octavia are the first ones on the list. “I’m gonna go. Go have fun.” Her stomach is still in knots.

Harper gives her a slight nod before she’s bounding up the steps and into the apartment.

Clarke takes a deep breath and sits in the front of her car, trying to calm herself down. Then, she turns it on and heads to Lexa’s. This would be her second mistake.

By the time she gets to Lexa’s, she hasn’t been able to calm down and she’s pissed at herself. Because she’s made terrible mistakes in the last few weeks, _months_ honestly, and now everything is hitting the fan all at once. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She shouldn’t have let it get this far, she should’ve seen the signs that her friends were getting frustrated with her. How could she not have seen them?

So she’s at Lexa’s apartment and she’s absolutely furious with herself. Lexa doesn’t know what to do except let her pace across the living room and mutter to herself angrily. This goes on for about twenty minutes, before she finally speaks up. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“I happened,” Clarke spits, running her hand through her hair angrily. “I fucked up, and now my friends hate me.”

Lexa’s brows come together and she settles further into the arm of the couch. “I’m sure they don’t hate you. Why would they?”

“Because I missed Thanksgiving and I haven’t been around!”

“Are you still thinking about that?” Lexa asks, and anger bubbles in Clarke’s stomach. This time, though, it’s directed at Lexa.

“Of course I’m still thinking about it,” she mutters, just loud enough for her to hear. “I hurt my best friends on our favorite holiday of the year, how can I not think about it?”

Lexa huffs a bit and Clarke scowls, continuing her pacing. “I mean, if they’re your friends, they should have forgiven you already.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Clarke counters angrily, “because I haven’t talked to them about it, and it’s my fault so I have to talk to them about it.”

“It’s not your fault,” she says, and Clarke’s scowl only deepens. She tries to take a sharp breath to calm herself down, but it’s not working and she’s just getting angrier. Her heart is a bundle of bad emotions and she doesn’t know how to back down from it.

“Of course it is! I missed Thanksgiving. I haven’t been around. They have a perfectly logical reason to be upset with me, and I can’t fix it until I talk to them,” Clarke says, her voice raising.

Lexa raises her hands up in defense, “look, I’m just saying that if they’re upset about you being happy in a relationship then maybe you need some new friends.”

And that about _does it_ for Clarke. On any other day, she could probably brush that comment aside. But tonight, when her friends are angry at her and she’s angry at herself, that comment does not slide. “No, I do not need new friends,” Clarke spits, stopping her pacing abruptly. “My friends are perfectly fine, and I love them _very_ much. I fucked up though, and I have to face the consequences of that. I don’t need new friends, what I _need_ is to talk to them. And yet, you’re sitting here telling me that they’re shitty people. They’re not upset that I’m in a relationship, they’re upset that I’ve been isolating myself from them. So, I’m sorry, but you have this completely wrong.”

Lexa looks absolutely bewildered at Clarke’s words, and she can’t bring herself to feel guilty about it. It’s not the first fight they’ve gotten in, and it’s not the first time that Lexa has brought up Clarke getting new friends, but this is the time that counts the most. “I’m just trying to help, I don’t think they’ve been very supportive—”

“They’ve been plenty supportive!” She says back, her voice raising a couple decibels. “They were so happy when we started dating, because I was happy!”

“Was?” Lexa says, her voice raising too. “Are you not happy now?”

“Well I’m certainly not happy when my girlfriend tells me that I need new friends!” Clarke spits, running her hand through her hair, “because I don’t! They love me very much and I love them very much, I just fucked up. And I would really appreciate it if you stopped saying I needed to get new friends, because I don’t know how that’s gonna work.”

Lexa crosses her arms and now she’s standing too, the fire that Clarke originally liked now pissing her off. “Don’t know how what’s going to work?”

“You continuing to bash my friends,” Clarke responds simply, crossing her arms too. “Because they’re not going anywhere anytime soon, despite them being angry at me, so I suggest that you get used to it.”

“Maybe I’m the one who’s leaving,” she responds, and it’s suddenly like Clarke is chilled to the bone. Because while they’ve had fights, they haven’t strayed to this dangerous place.

“Maybe you are,” she hisses, the ice present. She doesn’t want to be here anymore, she doesn’t wanna have this conversation right now. “I’m gonna go. We can talk about this later, when we’ve both cooled down.”

Lexa nods a bit, the fire still raging in her eyes. “Maybe that’s for the best. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Clarke.”

So this ends one of the worst days of Clarke’s life.

Until three days later, she has another day that can take 1st place for _Most Miserable Days in Existence._

* * *

 

Clarke waits anxiously outside of Raven and Octavia’s apartment. She knows that they’re both home on Monday nights, and she needs to talk to them. She wants to fix what she messed up and the only way she can do that is if she talks to them. Wine night didn’t go as planned, and if she has to take this friend by friend then she will.

So she knocks, chewing on her bottom lip. She hears Octavia’s voice from inside the apartment and it stops abruptly when the door opens. Octavia stares for a moment, her lips pressing into a tight line and her jaw clenching tightly. It’s deadly quiet for several seconds, until Raven’s voice echoes from inside the apartment.

“Who’s at the door?”

Octavia doesn’t answer for a moment, still staring at Clarke like she wants to set her on fire. Clarke wouldn’t blame her. She’s been a terrible friend these last few months. “It’s Clarke,” Octavia finally says, her eyes still narrow.

“I—” Clarke pauses, trying to find her words. “I wanted to talk to you two. To apologize,” she adds, when Octavia still looks suspicious. “If that’s okay.”

Tension radiates off of the two of them in waves, but Octavia steps aside without a comment. Clarke feels like a stranger in her their home. She finds Raven sitting on the edge of the coffee table, her braced leg stretched out in front of her. It looks like she was doing some of the strengthening exercises that the PT gave her. Clarke realizes with a start that she knows very little about Raven’s recovery. If possible, more guilt fills her stomach.

Raven still won’t look at her however, and instead practices straightening and unstraightening her leg. Her body is tensed up, however, so Clarke knows that Raven knows she’s there. Octavia sits back down onto the couch and crosses her arms across her chest. “Okay. Talk.”

Clarke doesn’t hesitate to get her apologies out. “I fucked up. Not just a little but—colossally. Like, super fucked up.” She knows that she’s word vomiting, but she can’t get herself to calm down and slow down. “And I’m sorry. I know that I hurt you both in the last few months, a lot, and I know that I can’t get that time back.”

Neither of them say anything, and Octavia still looks murderous, so Clarke hurries to keep speaking. “I was stupid, and I was childish and I recognize this. I’m sorry that it took me so long to see what everyone else was seeing.” She pauses for a moment, swallowing her anxiety and stress. “And I don’t expect you two forgive me, I just want to try to be better, and try to find a way to make it up to both of you.”

Both are quiet, but Raven has finally looked up, and Clarke can’t read her expression. It’s not often that she can’t tell what she’s thinking, but right now, Raven is keeping a mask on. She glances down at her brace and then back up. “Do you have any idea how it feels to be told that someone is going to be there for you, and then isn’t?” Clarke lowers her head in shame, and she chews the inside of her cheek. “It’s been four months since my surgery. You’ve been around three, maybe four times? I wasn’t able to walk for two months. I only just started walking without the crutches. Did you know that?”

She stares expectantly at Clarke, and Clarke swallows thickly. “I—”

“You would’ve known, if you had been here. You would’ve seen me walk for the first time without help. You would’ve understood the frustration that I’ve been through in the last four months. I can’t do anything, Clarke.” Her voice is loud and determined, but she’s not yelling. Somehow, that makes this worse. “Someone has to help me all of the time. Usually, that’s been Emori or Octavia. You are one of my best friends, and I can’t think of a time in the last four months that you’ve been over here, or at PT with me for an extended period of time.”

The words are harsh, but Clarke deserves them. “I can go down stairs now. I can bike without my brace now. I can do a lot of things that I couldn’t do four months ago. But I still can’t run. I can’t work at my shop. It’s hard for me to get around sometimes. If you had been here, then you would know.”

“I know,” Clarke says, finally getting a word in. “And I’m sorry.”

But the word sorry seems to have no effect on Raven, as she continues talking. Octavia still smolders on the couch, arms crossed so tightly it looks as if she’s never going to uncross them. “I was in the fucking _hospital_ , Clarke. And I’m not saying that you don’t care, because I know you do, but god—it really came across like you didn’t give a shit.”

Out of everything that Raven has said, that is the blow to the stomach. She feels like she’s been punched. Not once, but repeatedly. Clarke’s lips part and her brows furrow and she feels a lump forming in her throat. Her chest physically aches.

“My best friend, not giving a shit! How the hell do you think that felt?” Now her voice is rising, and Clarke can only cower under the fury of Raven Reyes, because she deserves it. She deserves every word that’s being said to her, because yeah, she made a mess. A huge one. She fucked up.

“You know that’s not true,” Clarke finally says, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice and her hands. “I just—”

“Picked your girlfriend over people you’ve known for years,” Octavia interjects, her voice low and terrifying. “Yeah. We know. We aren’t idiots.”

Clarke’s eyes snap to her, and she finds herself afraid of Octavia in this moment. “It wasn’t intentional,” Clarke counters, but Octavia’s gaze doesn’t relent in the slightest. “I got caught up in being in a relationship, and I left my friends behind. And I fucking _hate_ myself for it, Octavia! I wouldn’t intentionally abandon all of you, especially not you two!”

“But you did! That’s the thing, Clarke! You did abandon us!”

“Not intentionally!” Clarke shouts back and Octavia pulls her hands through her hair angrily, whisps of it framing her face. “I know that I fucked up, but I would never hurt either of you, any of you intentionally!”

She can see Octavia swallow down whatever angry words she had to say, and instead takes a sharp breath. “It might not have been intentionally,” she says, her voice dangerously quiet, “but it hurt. And it’s—” Octavia takes another breath. “It’s fucking hard. To be hurt by someone that we love very dearly.”

Now shame fills her, and she wants to cry, but she knows she can’t. She has to get through this. She has to explain her side of what’s going on. “You know this is the lowest I’ve ever felt in my entire life? Right now? Because I’ve absolutely hurt my two best friends, my roommate, almost everyone else that I care about. My girlfriend isn’t speaking to me right now, which is probably for the better, because I’m seeing things that I didn’t see during the last few months. I was isolated from my friends, and I got caught up in a relationship that I’m not even sure is going to last. And I am immensely sorry.”

Clarke hurries to keep talking, because Raven looks like she wants to say something. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me today, or tomorrow, or even in weeks, because yeah, I messed up. I blew you both off for weeks and didn’t think anything of it. I didn’t go to Raven’s PT, I missed Thanksgiving. But I want to be able to fix this, if you’ll let me. Because you’re my best friends, and I hate fighting with you.” Clarke swallows the lump in her throat and blinks back her tears. Her heart is shattering as she speaks, and she doesn’t know what else to do.

Her two friends stare at her and Raven finally stands up. It takes her a second, and Clarke watches intently, just in case. It pains her to realize that she doesn’t even know how far into the recovery Raven is. But Raven pats her shoulder lightly and Clarke looks down. “You should go. Tavia and I have some stuff to talk about.”

She chokes out an “okay” and another “I’m sorry” before exiting the apartment.

She cries the entire way home.

Mistake number three is perhaps the worst mistake out of all of them.

She goes to her mom’s for Christmas, which isn’t the problem. She usually goes on Christmas Day anyways, but this year she went on Christmas Eve and stayed through most of the day on Christmas Day.

Her discussion—fight—with Octavia and Raven was two days before Christmas, and she didn’t know if she was welcome at the Christmas Eve party they always have. She still hadn’t spoken to them, and Bellamy was still being distant, and she didn’t want to open up that can of worms on Christmas. She didn’t want to ruin another holiday. And besides, she missed her mother. Abby instantly knew that something was wrong, but didn’t push it. That is, until it was very late on Christmas Eve and the story spilled out of Clarke.

She cried, she drank, she cried some more, and then developed a proper game plan to handle the situation with her friends. She’s just gonna have to take it friend by friend and talk through it with them, if they’re willing.

As for Lexa, that’s a whole other thing, and Clarke is still mulling over her options. Lexa called her on Christmas Day and they had a short conversation, but it was strained. It’s obvious that the words said on both ends had not been forgotten.

Which brings Clarke to the day after Christmas, and a fuming Bellamy.

* * *

 

Bellamy’s in the living room going over his lesson plans for the first week of the new semester when Clarke gets home. His jaw is ticking and he’s gripping his pen tightly, and fuck, he’s angry.

He will admit that she does look a lot lighter than she has in the past few weeks, but still, he’s pissed. And she must sense it, because as soon as she steps in the door, her eyes swing to him and her expression darkens. “Merry Christmas, Bellamy,” she says softly, and he grunts in response.

Because she missed Christmas. She didn’t tell anyone where she was and she didn’t tell anyone she wasn’t coming. She didn’t tell him. He had at least assumed she would mention it to _him_. But he was wrong, obviously, and he had Harper track her again to make sure she was alive and okay. He was grateful that she was safe at her mother’s house, but the thought of her not being there still made his blood boil.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” she continues, “I needed some time, and I needed to see my mom.” Bellamy grunts again, his eyes no longer focusing on the papers in front of him. Because he’s mad at the situation, he’s mad at her, and he’s mad at himself. “Please talk to me.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he finally says, after a few beats of silence. “You didn’t come to Christmas. You didn’t tell anyone you weren’t coming to Christmas. You haven’t been around, I don’t know what you want me to say because honestly, anything that comes out of my mouth might be yelling.”

She visibly flinches, to the point where even if he’s not looking at her he can see it. He finally looks up to find her sitting on the edge of the counter looking down at her hands. “I’m sorry,” she mutters quietly, “I know I fucked up. And I’d like to talk about it, if you want to.”

Bellamy stews for a moment, trying to find the words to say. Because there are many things he’d like to say. But he settles on, “why didn’t you come to Christmas?”

“I didn’t know if I was welcome,” she says instantly, still looking at her hands. “Octavia, Raven, and I got in a fight a couple days before, and I didn’t know if they wanted me to be there. I’m sure you know about that, though. I wanted to see my mom, I needed to see my mom,” she clarifies quickly, “and that’s why I wasn’t there.”

“You could’ve called,” he grunts, and thinks back to Christmas when Octavia and Raven looked surprised when Clarke didn’t walk in with him. He remembers Octavia calling him in hysterics after the fight with Clarke. He knows that the three of them have stuff to work on. But he also knows that he and Clarke now have stuff to work on.

“I know,” she responds simply, looking up at him, but he won’t look at her. “I needed time, and I figured everyone else needed time too. It was stupid, and reckless, but it’s what I did and I can’t change it. And I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything, and mulls over her words. He almost misses what she says next. “I’m also sorry about the last few months. I got caught up in Lexa,” his jaw clenches and an uncomfortable feelings flood him at the mention of her, “and forgot my friends. It’s fucked up, and I can’t change it, but I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry.”

“Yes.”

His heart is in his throat and he’s just so fucking confused. Because he wants to forgive her, because he can’t stay mad at her for long, but he’s furious. Furious that she left her friends, left him. Furious that she didn’t see the problem until it was too late. Anger and frustration builds inside of him and there’s tension between them that hasn’t existed since before she moved into his apartment.

“You left,” is what he finally spits, the feeling in his stomach intensifying with every second. “You left everyone. You got a girlfriend, who none of us are actually fond of, and you left. You left me. You are one of my best friends, and I haven’t seen you for more than five minutes in the past three months.”

“I know,” she says, and the crack in her voice gives her away. “I know, and I’m sorry—”

But he isn’t through. “You left, and left me to deal with all of the shit that’s been going on. Because for some reason, our friends rely on us the most. But then they were just relying on _me_ , because _you_ haven’t been here. Did you know that Raven’s been struggling in PT? Or that Murphy and Emori are fighting, and trying to fix their relationship? Or that Jasper is going through some stuff? And what about—”

“I get it!” She shouts, her head falling into her hands. “I haven’t been here! And I can’t go back and change that, no matter how much I want to! I know I screwed up, you don’t have to keep throwing it back in my face! I’m trying to make amends, Bellamy!” And now she’s shouting, and things have escalated very, very quickly. The aching in his chest isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, because he’s angry and hurt and upset.

“What, by skipping Christmas?”

Now, she’s jumped off of the counter and is in his face, jabbing her finger into his chest. “For fuck’s sake! I’m doing the best I can! I don’t really have a lot to go off of right now, considering half of my friends hate me and the other half won’t speak to me because of the first half! And my girlfriend isn’t speaking to me, so I hope you’re happy! You have to know that I’m doing the best I can!”

“You’re not doing enough!” He shouts, and the neighbors starts stomping, and that’s enough to stir him up more. “Just so we’re clear, Princess,” he spits, the malice in his voice palpable, “bringing up your girlfriend was probably not the _best_ plan.”

“Fuck off, Bellamy,” Clarke yells, jabbing at him again, “I thought we could just have a nice, normal conversation about how I messed up and how to fix it, but no! You have to go and make it a shouting match! For God’s sake I just want to say that I’m sorry!” Her voice cracks and he finally makes himself look at her, and fuck, there are tears in her eyes. His resolve almost breaks because he’s never made her cry, no matter how bad their fights got. The aching in his chest and the knot in his stomach intensifies. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. And that I want to fix this, however I can.”

Bellamy takes a sharp breath and makes himself step away from Clarke. The anger is still coursing through him at an alarming rate and he needs—fuck, he doesn’t know what he needs. “We can talk about this tomorrow,” he finally says, his voice low. Clarke looks down before looking up again. “You should think about where your priorities are,” he tells her and he knows that was a low blow. But he’s angry, and he’s hurt, and he doesn’t understand why she’s been doing this for several months.

He leaves her in the living room standing shell-shocked. His door slams with a sense of finality and he’s fuming. Anger is radiating off of him  and he can feel his body riling itself up. Because he’s so fucking pissed at her for leaving. Pissed because she left all of their friends for someone else, someone they didn’t even know. Just— _pissed_.

Bellamy hears the front door open and close, and he finds that for the first time in a while, he doesn’t give a shit about where she’s going. All he understands is that she’s leaving again, and he can’t stop it. It’s not in his power to stop it, and he’s not going to. Her bad decisions are her bad decisions.

He feels his anger start to ebb the longer he sits on the edge of the bed. Anger turns into frustration, which then turns into sadness. They yelled at each other, and she left again. He wouldn’t be surprised if she moved out. They haven’t— _he_ hasn’t yelled at her like that in months. He let his feelings get the best of him, and look where it got him.

He’s ruined the holiday season.

They’ve both ruined the holiday season.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> where's clarke going, hm? how are any of them going to fix this? man, i love knowing all of the answers
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick update! i wanted to get this one up quickly, and hopefully I'll be able to post one on Saturday morning before i leave. no promises though, but i already have parts of the next chapter written so it's looking good. i'm a little meh about this chapter, because i hate writing scenes after angsty stuff, but i did my best.
> 
> anyways! last chapter was brutal, and this chapter is just sad. BUT words are being exchanged and communication is happening (god, if only we could have that in the show im still REELING) so it's a start. things obviously aren't going to be smooth sailing yet for anyone, but it's gotta start. the response from last chapter made my day, and y'all picked up on a lot of things that i hoped you would, so that's fantastic for so many different reasons. also, can i just say i love harper mcintyre so much? the show doesn't appreciate her so I WILL
> 
> hope y'all enjoy!

Clarke’s calmed down a little by the time she’s halfway to Lexa’s. She’s still mad at herself and she’s still mad at Bellamy’s words, but she’s trying to calm herself down. She doesn’t think the ache in her chest is ever going to go away, but she knows that somehow she’s gonna have to fix it.

She sits in her car for the five minutes after she gets to Lexa’s apartment, taking deep breaths to steady herself. She can’t barge in there angrily like she did last time. No, she needs to be calm. But she also knows what she needs to do. And she doesn’t want to do it, but what other choice does she have?

Lexa opens the door with a raised brow and Clarke chews on her lip. “Can I come in?”

“Are you okay?” Lexa asks, but opens the door the door to let Clarke in.

Clarke wrings her fingers together and stares at her girlfriend, dread filling her stomach at what she’s about to do. She has a love-hate relationship with relationships. She loves them except for everything leading up to the end. “I—" But then she stops, because she can’t do it.

“Clarke?” Lexa asks again, trying to step closer towards her but Clarke only shakes her head.

“I need,” she starts, “I need to talk to you.” Lexa stops, and realization dawns on her face. But she nods, her face passive and stony. “I need time.”

“I suspected that,” Lexa tells her, and Clarke feels guilty yet again. There’s a rock in her stomach that’s growing as the silent seconds tick by.

Clarke chews at her lip, a lump forming in her throat. “My friends are some of the most important people in my life. Not to say that my girlfriend isn’t,” Clarke says quickly when she sees the look on Lexa’s face, “but they’ve been here for years. And I’ve jeopardized that bond severely. I need time to fix the my friendships and I don’t think I can do it while—” She blinks her tears back, “while I’m with you. I know it sucks and I hate it and—”

“I get it,” Lexa says, but it’s obvious that she doesn’t get it. “Your friends are important to you, and I’ve obviously put a wedge in between that.”

“I didn’t say that,” Clarke counters, frustration now edging out of her words.

“You implied it.”

She takes a sharp breath and presses her fingers into her eyes. “If I did, it wasn’t my intention. And I don’t think it was your intention to put a wedge in between us. That was completely my fault, and now I need to fix it. And to fix it, I need a couple weeks to sort things out with them.”

Lexa doesn’t say anything, and Clarke looks at her feet, the fight leaving her. “I just can’t lose my friends. I can’t. Raven and Octavia still haven’t said anything and Bellamy…” she takes a sharp breath, Bellamy’s harsh words still right in her ear. “Bellamy’s so mad at me I don’t think he’ll ever speak to me again.”

Lexa frowns, but moves closer to her. She rests a shaking hand onto Clarke’s shoulder. “You care about them, and you feel like you have to fix it. I respect it. I don’t like the fact that this is happening, but I respect it.”

Clarke nods a little, and edges away from her. Her heart aches. It feels like she’s being punched in the stomach repeatedly. “We can take some time. I need two weeks. Two weeks and hopefully I’ll be on stronger ground with my friends.” God, she hopes. That’s all she wants. She also wants to not be on a break from her relationship, but it’s what she feels like she has to do to fix this. Everything is falling apart, and she can’t do anything to stop it.

Lexa nods back, staring at Clarke with such a sad expression on her face that Clarke’s eyes fill with tears. “If you need more than two weeks, I understand. But don’t just never call again. That’s a great way to ruin the relationship. Don’t do that. I’m not asking for anything else but that.”

“I won’t.”

Lexa still looks a little suspicious and Clarke feels absolutely terrible. Because she’s never had to suggest to a significant other to go on a break. Well, Finn was a different circumstance, but she just chose to ignore the situation instead of doing something about it. And now she’s forcing herself to do something about it to better herself. She blinks back the tears and Lexa looks towards the door. “You should go,” she tells her, and Clarke nods, her heart breaking a bit as Lexa continues to look away. Clarke leans over and presses a lingering kiss to Lexa’s cheek, but she pulls away. “Go fix your friendships, Clarke.”

“I’m sorry,” she tells Lexa, “I’m so sorry. You know that I love—”

“Don’t say it,” she whispers, finally breaking Clarke’s stare. “Go,” Lexa repeats, firmer this time, and Clarke leaves her standing helplessly in the middle of her living room. 

* * *

 

The door to Harper and Emori’s apartment opens and Clarke immediately bursts into tears. Harper pulls her in with a look of alarm and sits her down on the couch quickly. Sobs wrack Clarke’s body as Harper crouches in front of her and tries to get her to take a breath, but it’s not working, she can’t breathe. Hot tears cascade down her face and she presses her hands into her eyes, but she won’t stop crying. Her chest is being stabbed and everything is blurring in front of her.

Harper says something, but Clarke can’t hear it. Her body is being torn to pieces and so is her life and heart. Everything is falling apart, and she can’t stop it. Her friend gives up trying to talk and just holds Clarke’s shoulders tightly as sob after sob escapes her. Her heart is in fragments and all she wants to do is fix things but _no one will let her_.

A shaky breath passes her and her cries slow until she’s sniffling. Her tears are dried on her face and her cheeks are chapped. Harper passes her a tissue and she wipes at her face angrily before blowing her nose. In short, Clarke is miserable. Everything still fucking hurts, but at least she’s not sobbing anymore.

Her friend stays quiet as Clarke tries to pull herself together, and rubs her shoulder soothingly. Clarke chews at the inside of her cheeks as another bout of tears threaten her eyes. Clarke laughs miserably. “You must think I’m insane. Showing up at one o’clock in the morning with no explanation.”

Harper shakes her head a bit. “I mean I know you’re insane, but not for showing up at 1 AM, that happens all of the time. You wanna talk about it?” She asks gently, and Clarke wants to cry again.

“If I talk about it are you going to yell at me?” She mutters, and Harper adjusts herself on the couch so she can look at Clarke.

“I’ll try not to,” she tells her honestly, and Clarke turns to face her. She swats at her eyes again and takes a shuddering breath. “Clarke, just try to talk. You’re not going to get anywhere if you don’t.”

Clarke nods slowly, swallowing thickly. “I’m just trying—trying to fix things. And no one is letting me. I know I screwed up, I know it and I hate that I did, but I just want to fix it. All it’s doing is causing more fighting and I hate it, Harper. I fucking _hate_ it. I’m trying to fix things the best way I know how but it’s like no one wants to fix it,” she mumbles, another cry sneaking it’s way out.

“Okay,” Harper says, “here’s what we’re going to do. First, I’m gonna get a level head on you because you’re acting a little crazy, and then we’re going to talk about this. Because it’s beating both of us up and I hate what’s going on and I want to fix it too.”

Clarke feels hope blossom for the first time in her chest since Christmas. Harper settles in next to her and looks up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “First of all, I think that the way you’re going about trying to fix this is the best way you can. Communication is the only way that this is going to be better, and Clarke, you’re trying! I give you props for trying, because I would be terrified to walk into Octavia and Raven’s apartment alone, they’re like wolves sometimes.”

She's able to let out a watery laugh as Harper continues. “But, you also have to understand that you did hurt them. You hurt a lot of us, and that’s gonna take time to get through. Fighting back was just a defense mechanism for them. And it sucks, it’s as simple as that, it fucking _sucks_ ,” Harper says and Clarke swallows thickly.

“But you laid the groundwork. You said your apologies, probably many times, and that’s a start. The ball is in their court, and you’re just going to have to wait. I’m not agreeing with anyone, because I wasn’t involved in anything that happened these past two weeks, but I’m not disagreeing with you, either. You did what you could, and now you have to wait,” Harper says simply and Clarke sighs weakly.

“I know. I just—”

“Hate waiting,” Harper finishes, “girl, I know.”

Clarke knows that now is the time to apologize to Harper. She’s the first person who hasn’t yelled at her for this, and she has to start to do better. “Hey, Harp,” Clarke starts and the girl in reference turns to face her, “I really am sorry about the last few months. I was being stupid, and got caught up with Lexa.” She hates that her voice catches on the name. “I know I hurt you a fair amount, and if there’s a way to make it up to you I want to do that.”

Harper studies her for a moment, her eyes searching Clarke’s face for something, and then nods a little. “Okay.”

Clarke raises a brow. “Okay? Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Harper tells her, and then her brows come together. “Well, not just like that. It’s gonna take a little time because yeah, you did hurt me.” Clarke bows her head in shame, tears pooling again because god, _she knows_. Harper continues, “even though you did hurt me, I’ve missed you a lot the last few weeks. And I don’t want to lose you as a friend because I love you very much. So, yeah. I’m willing to get through this with you.”

And then Clarke’s crying again because she’s the first one of her friends who is willing to try to fix their relationship. “Oh, come on, not again,” Harper mutters, and Clarke lets out a strangled laugh and pulls Harper in for a hug. Harper holds onto her tightly for a moment, sniffling. “Missed you, Clarke. You’re gonna get through this. Even if it takes time with me and with everyone else.”

“Even if it takes time,” Clarke echoes, feeling the guilt and shame that’s taken a residence in her stomach ebb a little.

“It’s always really bad before it gets better,” she tells her, “and right now it’s really bad.”

Clarke presses her fingers into her eyes. “Yeah, I have officially hit rock bottom. I thought that happened during college, but I guess I’ve just used a pick-axe to get this far.”

And then Harper snorts a bit, pulling Clarke in for another hug. Clarke relaxes into her friend’s hug, feeling for the first time that it might be okay. Then Harper yawns, and she feels guilty again. “Shit, did I wake you up?”

Harper rubs her eyes and nods a bit, “but it’s okay. I knew it was serious.”

“Where’s Emori?” That’s another person she wants to apologize too, even though she suspects that it won’t be as easy as this was. Hell, this wasn’t even easy, this was just far less turbulent. Everything else has been a goddamn plane crash.

“She’s at Murphy’s for the weekend. They’ve been staying out of it,” Harper tells her quietly, and Clarke nods. “Why were you out at 1 AM?” She asks, finally getting to the root of this explosion of feelings. Because wow, what an explosion.

Clarke chews at her lip, the words from the past few hours bouncing around in her head violently. “Bellamy and I got into a fight about everything. A really, really bad one. And we were both angry and I left, and spent ten minutes at Lexa’s explaining that I couldn’t do it anymore. And I couldn’t stay at Lexa’s and I didn’t want to go home and I didn’t know where else to go and—”

Harper stops her with a hand. “Hey. It’s okay. You’re always welcome here, Clarke. Even if we’re in a fight. Because I would much rather you feel okay and safe here, then go somewhere that you don’t want to be. Everything okay with Lexa?” She asks cautiously, and Clarke knows that even though it’s a sore subject, Harper is still willing to talk about it. And that makes her want to cry _again_.

Clarke shrugs a bit, “I dunno. We decided to take a break. And I know what that’s eventually going to lead to, but I know that I have to fix things with my friends. I don’t know if I can do that when I’m with her. I let myself get caught up and forget my friends, and no relationship is as important as you guys are.” She thinks about Lexa’s face of hurt and another sob crawls its way up Clarke’s throat, but she pushes it down.

Harper stares at her for a moment before a look of acceptance crosses her face. “So you’ve really had a rough few hours.”

“You can say that,” Clarke murmurs, the ache in her chest easing a little more with every minute she stays with Harper. It still hurts, but talking has helped. “I just couldn’t go home.” Bellamy’s angry face flashes through her mind and she feels terrible again. “He was just so mad.”

“He was really hurt by it all,” Harper murmurs and Clarke bites the inside of her cheek, because that much is obvious. “But you two are close. You used to hate each other, and now you’re closer than ever. You’re just going to have to talk through it, because you two obviously mean a lot to each other. Even if you don’t know it.” She swallows another lump in her throat and nods quickly. “You know how he gets. He gets angry, and says things he probably shouldn’t. You remember that time he told Octavia he wished she’d never been born? Like that. Anger means bad decisions and bad words, and that’s exactly what happened here. But you can’t get through it unless you talk to each other.”

Clarke nods again and Harper collapses backwards into her couch. “I swear, this friend group is _terrible_ at communication skills, good lord.” And then they both crack a smile, and Harper lets out a little laugh and thank god for Harper.

* * *

 

Bellamy’s waiting for her in the kitchen. After she left last night he spent a very, very long time thinking. He had a fitful night, unable to sleep for more than an hour at a time. He was just so preoccupied thinking about the words that were exchanged. Clarke was right, all she wanted to do was fix things, and he turned it into a shouting match. A terrible, angry shouting match.

He’s still upset at her for the last few months, but some of what he said was out of line. And he wants to apologize for it so they can get back on track, if they can get back on track. They’re gonna have to work at it, because obviously she hurt him tremendously and his words and actions hurt her, but god, he just misses his best friend.

He’s been sitting at the kitchen table for what feels like eternity when the door finally opens and Clarke appears. Her eyes are ringed red, and her cheeks are flushed and he feels this pull to her, this pull to find out what’s wrong. But he stays put. And she stares at him.

It’s painfully quiet in their apartment and he tries to find the words to say. But they don’t come to him. Finally, he opens his mouth and she shakes her head, “please don’t yell at me.”

“I don’t want to yell at you,” he says gruffly, and her face morphs to surprise. “I’m mad at you, but I don’t want to yell at you.”

“And I’m mad at you,” she counters, setting her bag down. She steps into the kitchen and he notices how tired she looks. Her hair is up in a messy bun and there are heavy bags under her eyes. It doesn’t look like she slept at all, and he knows the same look is mirrored in his face. “And I don’t want to yell at you.”

Bellamy nods, holding his mug so tightly it might break. “Good. Glad we’re on the same page with that.” Clarke drops her bag on the floor and slowly moves closer, sitting down slowly in the chair opposite him. There’s still anxious energy in between them, and the atmosphere is tense. Not as tense as last night, but still very tense.

She stares him down, and finally he opens his mouth. “I want—” He swallows thickly. “I want to apologize. For what I said about Christmas, and going to your mother’s. I shouldn’t have said it, because if my mother was alive I probably would have done the same thing. Going to your mother was not stupid. It was the best thing you could have done for yourself at the time, and I get that. So I’m sorry. I was out of line.” He continues to stare, and she nods a little bit.

“I still should have said something.”

“It wasn’t our business,” he responds, and she chews at her lip like she does when she’s anxious. The burning hole in his body isn’t getting any better, even as this conversation goes on.

“You’re all my friends and I didn’t let you know where I was. I’m glad I went to my mom’s, because it was good for me and for all of us, but I should have told you where I was,” Clarke says. Bellamy nods. Everything is so tense, and so awkward, and he doesn’t know what to say to try make this better. Can they make this better? “I’m sorry. And I know it’s going to take more than that to fix this, but I’m willing to do that.”

Bellamy stares, before glancing back down at his mug. “I’m sorry for yelling,” he finally tells her. “When someone tries to apologize to you, you listen. You don’t start yelling at them, and saying everything that they did wrong. I didn’t listen, and things got bad. I was angry, and hurt, and I let my feelings get the best of me.” Yeah, his damn feelings that haven’t shut up for days.

He tips his head up, and she looks down at her hands. “I’m sorry for what happened last night.”

Now that snaps his eyes to her, because he’s the one who escalated the situation. He started yelling, and he let his emotions get the best of him. “I’m the one who started yelling,” he replies, a bit shocked.

“I’m the one who let it get this bad,” she replies and he makes a face, because _of course_ this is how it’s going to go. They’re going to argue about who started the fight instead of work through the fight. “I abandoned everyone, including you, and that’s on me. I’m sorry. And I know it’s not going to be that easy, but please just let me try to fix this.”

Bellamy pauses and runs a hand through his hair. God, this sucks. She sounds so desperate and miserable and he just wants this to all end. He wants to be on good terms again and he wants to be able to sit and talk to her without feeling angry. But man, he’s a stubborn son of a bitch and she hurt him, she hurt all of them. So they’re going to have to work through this day by day.

“How do you fix this?” He finally says, and Clarke looks up to find hope flickering on her face.

“However I can.” He stares, trying to figure out what to say. “I don’t know how to, but I want to. I need to. I can’t stand this.”

Yeah he can’t stand it either. He hates fighting with her, he hates yelling at her. It’s something that they did so often a few months ago, but now he doesn’t want to fight. Because she’s one of his best friends, even if there _is_ some weird shit going on, and he wants to be able to rely on her like he knows he can. They just have to get back to that point. 

* * *

 

Clarke’s doing her laundry when her phone rings. She fumbles blindly for the phone and squints at it before raising her brows. Raven’s calling her. Raven’s been off the grid since they fought. It’s been days, weeks even, since she’s spoken to her. She can honestly say that she never would have expected this.

But she answers, “hello?”

The other line is quiet for a moment. “Clarke?”

“Yeah?”

“Can,” Raven starts, and then stops. “Can we get coffee?” She feels her heart stop. Raven wants to get coffee. That hopefully means that Raven wants to talk. Hopefully. She tries to squash down the feelings budding in her chest, because what if that isn’t what she wants?

“Yeah,” Clarke stutters out, “yeah, of course.”

“I want to talk.”

She exhales a huge sigh of relief and feels tears prick at her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, me too. That’d be great. I can come get you in twenty?”

“Yeah. That’d be great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> raven interaction next chapter, as well as some much needed delinquent bonding time (yes i know there are only 8 of them left they all deserved better i will die on this hill)
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright next chapter! i managed to get it up before i leave so whoop! also i lied, there isn't as much delinquent bonding time as i thought there would be BUT do not fear next chapter there's plenty more. this chapter is also probably riddled with errors, but as i'm literally about to walk out the door as i post this, i'm more concerned with posting it lol. if there are any major ones let me know and i can fix it when i get back!
> 
> also, HUGE thanks to valoismarie, she's been helping me read through and tweak the past several chapters! definitely go check out her stuff y'all, it's great
> 
> anyways! on to the chapter! here's to it, and here's to hopefully surviving the episode on tuesday, i can't wait to watch when i get back!

Clarke sits anxiously as Raven gets settled into her seat at Starbucks. Her leg bounces uncontrollably and she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek like there’s no tomorrow. Her hands have a vice-like grip on her cup and it feels like she might smash it she’s so nervous.

“So,” Raven finally says, and Clarke’s eyes snap to her. “How have you been?”

Clarke’s brows raise. “How have I been?”

Raven nods, adjusting her leg. “Yeah. How have you been? Harper texted. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Clarke swallows, and the hole in her chest gets wider. Because she’s the one who hurt Raven, and yet she’s the one checking up on her. “I’m okay,” is what Clarke finally says, because she doesn’t want to talk about her problems right now. There will be time for that later. For now, she wants to get things back to where they need to be. “It sucks, but it’ll be okay. I’m trying not to think about it right now. I have a lot of other stuff on my mind.”

Raven nods, sipping at her coffee and glancing around the shop. They run into each other a lot here, usually to and from work, and in the last few weeks, Clarke hasn’t seen her. It’s been lonely, and the anxious feeling in her gut increases. “I wanted—” Raven starts, and then stops, and Clarke watches her expectantly. “When I asked you for coffee, my intention was to talk about what happened the other night before Christmas, and why it happened. And I still want to do that, but I want to tell you something first.”

“Okay,” Clarke says quickly, ready to take whatever is thrown at her. Instead, Raven surprises her.

“I hired someone at the shop,” Raven tells her, and Clarke’s brows shoot upwards again. Because Raven has never hired anyone at the shop. “I can’t do a lot of things, and he needed a job, so I’ve had someone working for me for the last few weeks.”

Clarke furrows her brows a bit, trying to understand why this is being said. “That’s… good.”

“It’s the guy who found me in the woods.”

“What?”

“Zeke. His name was Zeke.” And Raven’s cheeks are pink, and it takes Clarke a moment before she gets it.

“Oh my god,” she forces out, “you like him!”

Raven rolls her eyes, tapping her cup. “You sound like Bellamy, so shocked. Like I can’t have feelings,” Clarke resists a smile, because this feels so, so normal. It’s like nothing ever happened. “I don’t know if I’m into him. But he’s funny and he makes me smile, and it felt weird keeping it from you. So I wanted to let you know.” It sounds like Raven may be into him, but Clarke’s not going to push it when she’s is willingly offering up information about her life.

“I can’t believe he’s a mechanic,” is what she says, and Raven looks down a bit to fight her smile. Oh, this girl is _so_ gone. Even if she doesn’t know it.

“He was a pilot in the Air Force for a while. But he’s done now,” Raven adds quickly, when she sees the look of panic on Clarke’s face. The last thing that Clarke wants is for Raven to fall for someone for the first time in years, and then have him leave. “And he needed a job, so I gave him one.”

“You gave him a job,” Clarke says slowly, still reeling from that realization, and Raven makes a face.

“Oh, come on, I am a considerate person.”

“And yet, when _Jasper_ needed a job—”

Raven huffs. “I swear you and Bellamy are the same person.” Clarke laughs a little, and then the table goes quiet again. The two look anywhere but each other, and Clarke feels the happiness that she just possessed slowly slipping away.

She doesn’t know if Raven wants to be the one to start this obviously painful discussion, or if Clarke should start. She doesn’t even know how to start. It’s four months of pain and frustration and some of it came out before Christmas. Clarke doesn’t know what else could come out, or how she might respond to it. At all costs, she wants to avoid a screaming fight in the middle of a Starbucks. Not that she thinks it might get to that point, but just in case. She’s had enough public embarrassment to last her a lifetime.

“Okay, look,” Raven finally says, dropping her hands onto the table and looking at Clarke with strong intention behind her eyes. “I’m going to lay all of my cards on the table, and you’re going to lay yours. We are going to talk about this in a civil, calm, and polite conversation, and we are going to figure out where to go from here. Got it?”

Clarke nods rapidly, setting her cup aside slowly to face Raven fully. “Got it.”

“Okay,” she starts, “what you did sucked.”

“Yes,” Clarke agrees.

“Same page, that’s a start,” Raven continues, proactivity in her voice. Clarke didn’t expect anything less. “What you did hurt, and I hated it. I hated that I wasn’t seeing you as often, and I hated not knowing why it was happening. And I’m going to be honest, because we’re laying everything out, I wasn’t very fond of Lexa.” Clarke’s heart jumps uncomfortably at the name, and she looks down. “And I know bits of what happened, and I’m sorry for bringing it up. We can talk about it if you want to. But I had to tell you.”

“No, I understand,” Clarke assures her quietly, because she does get it. In order to fix the mess between them, everything from the last few months has to come out. Even if it’s particularly painful. “I’m good right now, but thanks.”

Raven nods and fiddles with her thumbs as she gathers her next words. “At first, I thought that it was unintentional, and that you had no idea what was happening. Then, as time went on, and I got angrier, I thought that Lexa was pulling you away and you were going willingly. And I know that that’s not true, the last two weeks are enough evidence of that, but I let my anger cloud my judgment and I couldn’t possibly see how you couldn’t understand what was happening.”

The words are stinging, but Clarke knows she needs to hear them. She needs to understand how Raven felt, and how she can make sure it never happens again. “I see now that it was not intentional, and it was definitely a mistake. I understand that, and I accept that. I get it. We make mistakes. But you missing a good two-thirds of my recovery? That’s what I still can’t understand.”

Clarke chews at her lip and tries to find the words to say, but what can she say? Raven struggles on her words for a moment. “Like I said a couple weeks ago, I—I was in an accident and it felt like my best friend didn’t care. I know you did, because that’s who you are and what you do, but the aftermath of everything led me to think that you didn’t.”

“Raven, I would never—” Clarke starts, but Raven shakes her head and she clamps up.

“Let me finish, please. The last four months have been hell, Clarke. I couldn’t do anything by myself for the longest time, and I still struggle to do even the littlest things. I had assumed that you would’ve been there to help through the entire recovery. And you were, for a few weeks. But—” now Raven pauses, looking down for a moment to gather herself and Clarke’s heart thuds painfully in her chest because this is what Raven does before she cries. She looks down to hide it. “But you,” she blinks a bit, “you didn’t see me walk for the first time. I took three steps without the brace, and you weren’t there. You went to PT twice, maybe three times? You said you’d be there, and then you weren’t, and that’s what hurt me the most.”

Clarke feels shame flood her body, eating away at her insides. She feels terrible, because now they’re getting to the root of the problem between them. Clarke went back on her promise, and now she’s missed four very crucial months of her friend’s life. “I’m—”

“I know you’re sorry, you have the guilty look on your face, I get it, but,” Raven looks back up to find Clarke’s eyes. “They told me the other day that it might take a month longer than anticipated. I fell right before Christmas, the day after our fight. I was distracted and I slipped, and I fell. They said that it didn’t cause any more damage, but it would probably set me back a few weeks. And all I wanted to do at that moment was to bitch to you about it. Because you get my frustration and why I want to get better so quickly. You understand me in that aspect, and I didn’t know if you would talk to me.”

Her stomach drops as Raven’s story continues, pure heartbreak and devastation crashing into her like waves. “Oh my god, Raven, are you—why didn’t you—Raven.”

“I’m okay now,” Raven starts, and Clarke slumps in relief. “The only people I told were Octavia and Emori. But I’m good now, and I’m back on track. I’m still going to be considered in recovery through most of March, but then hopefully they’ll clear me by then.”

Clarke nods quickly, the relief helping her breathe a little easier. “When’s your next appointment? I’m coming.”

Raven shakes her head, “you really don’t have too—”

“I’m coming,” Clarke says, the defiance leaking out of her. “I missed four months of this. This is how I start to make it up to you. I want to, and I want to see what they’re doing to help, so that I can do it, too.”

“Clarke.”

“Raven.” Clarke crosses her arms over her chest and stares at her friend with her brows raised. “Even if you don’t tell me when it is, I’ll find a way there, and I will annoy you to work harder, because that’s what I should’ve been doing this whole time,” Clarke challenges, and Raven searches her for a moment before finally coming to a conclusion.

“Yeah, you’re not wrong. It’s January 2nd at 4.”

Clarke nods and quickly reaches for her phone to check her work schedule. She frowns when she sees that she’s scheduled for New Year’s Eve starting at eight o’clock, but grins a bit when she’s off at 8 AM on the 2nd. “Good thing I’m free.”

Raven tips her head and holds onto her cup. “But,” she continues quickly, “I understand you getting caught up. The PT and recovery part of all of this is going to take a little more time to get used to, and figure out how to forgive you.” Well, hopefully, it gets started by actually going to one of her PT sessions.

Clarke understands, “okay. I’ll do everything I can to get to that point.”

“Alright, your turn. I bared my soul to you, and now you go.”

She can’t stop herself from grinning, remembering the exact words that Raven spoke to her after the Finn incident. But then her smile drops, and she remembers what she has to do. “Well, quite simply, I fucked up. I know it and I’m sorry and I’m going to be better. I will say it a thousand times, if I have to,” she starts, chewing on the inside of her lip as Raven watches her intently. “I was unintentionally isolating myself, and drifting away from my friends, and I didn’t know it was happening until it had already happened. When things started getting rough with Lexa,” Clarke swallows uncomfortably, looking down at her hands, “I tried to come back, because I needed my friends. I didn’t know that my friends had needed me all of this time, and I wasn’t there.”

Raven’s quiet, as if she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, but there is no other shoe. That’s all she has to say. “That’s it,” Clarke tells her quietly, “I really have nothing else to say besides I’m sorry, and I won’t let it get like this again.”

Raven stares at her for a long while, searching her for something. Clarke shifts her face into the most open expression she can as Raven’s eyes narrow. “Okay. We’re not good yet,” she tells Clarke, and her stomach thuds on the floor, “but we’re a whole lot better than we were two weeks ago. I’m hurt, but I don’t want to be mad anymore. I know that the only way for this to get better is if I let you make it better. So I want to do that.”

Clarke nods quickly, grasping at Raven’s words. She wants to make it better, and she wants to let Clarke fix it. God, she’s gonna cry again. She’s been crying far too often in the past few days but these are tears of relief. “For Christ’s sake, Clarke,” Raven says, alarmed.

“I’m sorry, I’m fine,” she forces out, blinking to stop herself from crying. But the look of thankfulness on her face must be evident, because Raven seems to understand. “I promise I’m fine. I just want—just want this to work out.”

“Griffin, I’ve known you for what, four years? Even if it’s not supposed to work out you make it work somehow. You’ve never given up, and I don’t think you’ll give up on this,” Raven says, reaching over to grasp Clarke’s hand tightly. Clarke gives it a gentle squeeze, and dammit she’s tearing up again because this week has been _a lot_. “Good lord.”

Clarke lets out a watery laugh and squeezes Raven’s hand once more before reaching for her cup. “This week has just been a lot.”

“It’s okay. The last four months have been a lot,” Raven replies, and her heart drops again and she can literally feel her face go pale, but Raven grins a little bit. “Honestly, I thought you would be better at this. Joking about our traumas, get it together, Clarke.”

“I’ll do my best,” Clarke replies slowly, and Raven looks down.

“You wanna talk about what happened?”

Oh. With Lexa. She knows that she’s going to have to talk about it at some point, how she chose her friends over her girlfriend and doesn’t regret it, but she doesn’t want to talk about it right now. She wants to repair things with her friends by not discussing Lexa a whole lot, but she knows that Raven deserves the story. “I got in a fight with Bellamy two nights ago, and when I left I went to Lexa’s. On the way there I realized what I had to do, so I asked if we could take a break. I know what that’s inevitably going to lead up to, but fixing my friendships is at the top of my priority list right now. If I choose to fix that relationship then I will.”

Raven tips her head up, her confident and hard exterior cracking a bit, something that it doesn’t do often. “I’m sorry you had to do that. It sucks. But I’m glad that you knew what to do, and that you’re here. Maybe it won’t turn into a break up,” Raven starts, but Clarke only shrugs.

“I dunno. It’s not like I don’t love her, because I do, but I don’t know. My friends didn’t like her, and my mother wasn’t too keen on her either. I guess that should’ve been a blaring red alert button that said back up, but fools just love love,” Raven snorts, and Clarke continues slowly. “The last few weeks were hard. It felt like there was something missing, but I don’t know what. We’ll see. It sucks right now, and I don’t think I’m fully out of the crying stage, but life goes on.”

“Yeah, it does. I’m sorry. Break-ups suck ass.”

“You’ve got that right,” Clarke murmurs, and despite the conversation, she feels more hopeful than she has in weeks.

* * *

 

Bellamy’s just finishing his breakfast when Clarke emerges from her room, looking tired and well-rested at the same time. He watches as she blinks herself awake and rummages in the fridge for something to eat. She yawns and pulls out the milk before reaching for the Lucky Charms.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she sees him at the table. “Jesus,” she shrieks, closing her eyes tightly. “I didn’t know you were up.”

“Been up for a couple hours,”  he replies and she makes a face before collapsing into her designated chair. She frowns when she sees that there aren’t many marshmallows left in the bag, but eats her breakfast anyways. That sugary cereal is going to rot her teeth but Clarke would rather die than not have her Lucky Charms, and at this point he knows he can’t stop her.

They’re quiet for a little, and Bellamy picks up his plate to rinse. Things have been odd between them since their little talk. Granted, it’s only been a few days since they spoke about it, and he’s still processing the whole thing, but. It’s just weird. She’s his roommate and one of his close friends and yet there’s this huge wedge in between them that they’re only starting to chip away at.

He knows that she feels guilty, and that she wants to fix things. But, everything has been so hectic surrounding the whole situation that it’s difficult sometimes. Mending a friendship is already hard, but it’s harder when the person who’s doing the mending is working like crazy. It has only been a few days, but he hates how awkward it is.

“Do you work tonight?” He finally asks into the silence, and he hears her spoon hit her bowl.

“Yeah,” Clarke murmurs, “at eight, till the morning of the 2nd.”

Bellamy nods back, leaning against the counter to look at her. He almost grins at her half-asleep form leaning on the table. “You’re missing New Years?”

Clarke shrugs, blinking to keep her eyes open. “It’s not like I really have a choice. They always need extra nurses on New Years Eve, since everyone is an idiot. Don’t be an idiot tonight,” she adds, and it gets a laugh out of him. A little smile grows on her face before she pours more Lucky Charms. “Doctors love holidays and the last thing I want is to see you or any of our friends coming into the ER.”

“I’ll do my best,” Bellamy replies, “I’ll make sure everyone’s not an idiot. Jasper’s gonna be tricky.”

“Don’t let that man near the tequila, who knows what could happen,” she says, and now Bellamy grins, because man, she’s right. Jasper plus tequila is _never_ a good combination.

They fall silent again, and the only noise is the hum of the heater and the clink of silverware. “You should come tonight,” Bellamy says, without thinking about it. “To Harper’s.”

“I work?”

“Yeah, but before,” he manages. “You usually come.”

Clarke chews at her lip and swirls her spoon in her bowl. “I dunno. I’d only be there for a little.”

“You should still come. I think everyone would be happy to see you.”

And then she snorts a bit, wrinkling her nose at his words. “Yeah, _and_ pigs can fly.”

Bellamy frowns as she gets up to rinse her bowl and put away her breakfast. “They would. Miller hasn’t seen you in ages.”

“That doesn’t mean they _want_ to see me,” Clarke says stubbornly, and he furrows his brows, annoyed at her insistence to still not see her friends. The only way she’s going to fix it is if she talks to them, and she can’t do that if she holes up in her room.

“I will literally carry you to the car tonight if that’s what it takes," he deadpans. "We can do this the normal way, or we can do this the embarrassing way. Your choice, I don’t really have a preference,” he tells her, and her cheeks flame pink. “ _My_ preference is that you go.”

So, a few hours later she’s driving them over to Harper’s. She has to leave early, and Miller and Jackson live near Bellamy and Clarke, so they’re just going to have to drop him off.

Bellamy can tell that she’s anxious. Everyone’s going to be in one place for the first time in a while, and she feels like an outsider to the group. She’s not, but she feels like one. Bellamy knows that Harper’s talked to her, and forgiven her, and she and Raven are working on it, but he has no idea about anyone else.

They pull up to Harper’s apartment and walk towards the door together, Clarke in her scrubs ready to go. He opens the door and they’re greeted with a few voices, but not nearly as many as he thought there would be. Clarke slumps in relief as she processes this too, and then everyone sees her.

It goes quiet for a second before—

“Hey, Clarke.” Jasper.

“Hey, Jasper,” she replies quietly, and the man holds up a cup.

“Tequila?” Clarke grins a bit and Bellamy nudges her that way before heading to the kitchen to grab a beer.

Octavia descends on him in seconds, Lincoln standing close behind. “You brought her?”

“She’s our friend, O.”

“She practically abandoned us,” Octavia counters, frustration seeping into her voice.

“Have you talked to her about it?” Bellamy asks, looking in the fridge for what he wants. When Octavia doesn’t say anything, Bellamy sighs. “Try talking to her before you get angry again. It helps,” he adds, when Octavia looks bewildered at the prospect of talking to one of her friends.

“She just—”

“Hurt you, I know. She hurt all of us.”

Octavia crosses her arms over her chest, clenching her jaw as she goes. “Of course you’ve already talked to her.”

He feels a twinge of annoyance shoot through him. “Yeah, I did. She lives with me. I couldn’t ignore it forever.” He knew that he had to, if he wanted to live in a civil environment with her ever again. What he wants is to be friends with her again, and they have to start somewhere. He _thinks_ that he’s managed to squash his little crush with everything that’s been going on, and now he’s focused on their friendship that desperately needs to be repaired. “She’s your best friend, Octavia. You should try talking to her. Raven did.”

“Raven—”

“Doesn’t hold grudges like you do,” Bellamy finishes, and Octavia huffs, looking so much like fourteen-year-old Octavia that he’s thrown for a second. He recovers quickly, opening his beer and glancing at Lincoln before looking back at his sister. “You can’t hold one forever.”

“I can try,” she mutters quietly, and Bellamy rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever. Just talk to her. Try not to yell, it’ll make things worse.” He knows from experience. “Look,” Bellamy starts, setting his beer down on the counter to turn to his sister. “I know it sucks, and what she did sucks, too. But it won’t get better if you don’t talk to her. We’re working on it, and she and Raven are working on it. I know _you_ want to work on it too. You just have to give her that chance, alright? It’s not the end of the world if you talk to her, you know.”

Octavia exhales slowly, her brows coming together and Bellamy hopes that he got through to her, but who knows at this point. She’s so hardheaded sometimes it feels like he’s talking to a stump. Forgiveness is hard.

But Bellamy leaves her and Lincoln in the kitchen and lumbers back into the living room to find Jasper, Monty, and Clarke sitting near the TV talking in hushed voices. He knows better than to intrude, and instead plops down next to Murphy and Miller, who are trying but failing to look discreet about watching the three in the corner. “You two are terrible at this.”

“At what?” Miller asks, his eyes not leaving the TV—or—the group. Bellamy raises a brow and the man huffs before actually turning his gaze to the TV.

“Oh, not like you’re not interested in what’s going on.” Well, he can’t argue with that. “Gotcha.” Bellamy settles into the couch and tries to focus his attention onto the TV. But yeah, he’s interested.

“Where’s Jackson?” He asks, instead of looking over at his three friends.

Miller takes a sip of his beer. “Work. He got the noon to noon shift. Things always go wild at hospitals on New Years. That’s where Clarke’s headed?”

Bellamy tips his head as Emori emerges from her bedroom. “Alright, I’m making margaritas, who—” She pauses when she sees Clarke, and stares for a moment, before tipping her head into a nod slowly. “You want one, Clarke?”

“Can’t,” she replies cautiously, “work.” Emori nods, but doesn’t give it a second thought before hiding into the kitchen.

Bellamy stops for a moment, and then turns to Murphy. “How does Emori feel about all of this?”

Murphy shrugs and raises his hands in a I dunno pose. “Beats me. We’re trying to work through our shit, we don’t have time for anything else,” he mutters. They got in this really bad fight about a month before Christmas, and nearly ended things right in Emori’s living room. They’re still trying to work through it, usually by spending long weekends locked in each other’s rooms, but Bellamy knows it’s been really difficult for the both of them, Murphy especially. “I think she’s kind of indifferent. She’s not as close to Clarke as the other three are, but she knows that Clarke messed up with the rest of us, and it’s going to take time. She was really mad for a while, but I think she’s cooled down. Now she’s just mad at me the whole time.”

Bellamy can’t stop himself from smirking at Murphy’s words, because of course she’s mad at him all of the time. That’s basically how their relationship was started. “But I’d rather her be mad at me than at one of her friends. Because we can work shit out, we always do, but with friends it’s almost harder.”

He watches as Emori passes out margaritas, and crouches down to Clarke for a moment to say something, and Clarke nods back with a tight grin. Then Raven’s in the room, and Clarke is saying something to her and Raven’s cheeks are pink, so he can bet that it’s about that damn pilot-turned mechanic because no one makes Raven’s cheeks go pink except for him. He’s just glad to see the two of them smiling together again. Octavia’s still seething in the corner, and he swears he can see steam coming out of her ears, but this is a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> clarke and raven aren't completely there yet, but they're getting there. and come on we all knew octavia would be the one who'd hold the longest grudge, i had to keep something from the show in there lol, and more delinquent bonding time next chapter!
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright hello! so sorry this is a couple days past saturday. i got home from camp and could not make myself write or even open a document because i was that tired. but it was so much fun so it was so worth it. also now i'm writing a summer camp au because obviously i can't control myself so keep a look out for that!
> 
> anyways! next chapter. delinquent bonding time coming right up, and some hard conversations are on the menu too. this chapter gave me so much trouble to write, mostly because i hadn't written in a week. i never knew it would cause me to lose my mojo lol. but it's back now and the next few chapters are already in the works or finished. lemme just say, things are gettin good.
> 
> hope you enjoy!

The bell on the door jingles as it opens, and Emori glances up at Clarke, “you made it.”

Clarke nods and sits down slowly on the chair across from Emori. “Yeah, traffic was terrible, but I’m here.”

Emori nods and stares for a moment at Clarke before nodding. “Traffic outside of the shop is always terrible, I get caught in it almost every morning. Anyways,” Emori says, shifting her attention to the matter at hand. “I have a couple designs figured out, but you’re the artist and I wanted you to look at them and tweak them a little before I tattoo them onto someone’s body.”

“Sounds good,” Clarke says, somewhat awkwardly. She and Emori have never been extremely close, they’ve always been friends but not to the point of friends that Raven and Clarke are. Raven’s closer to Emori than any of them, but Clarke still wants to make her amends.

It’s been a few days since New Year’s, and Emori asked her to come by the shop again. Clarke instantly agreed, because she knows this is how she gets back into Emori’s good graces. Honestly, she’s not sure if Emori is still mad at her or not, but she’ll do what she can.

Emori hands her a sketchbook and Clarke eagerly opens it to examine the pages. She’s always admired Emori’s work and the designs that she creates. She has such a different style and a unique way of developing her tattoos that Clarke has thought about getting a tattoo from her one day.

Clarke stares down at one specific tattoo that she finds especially intriguing. It’s a moon, but with detailed designs scattered through it. From some angles, it looks like it could be trees and a river, but from other angles it looks like it could be the night sky. “This one is really good, Emori,” Clarke tells her, glancing up at her quickly. “I like how detailed it is.”

“That’s one of my favorites,” Emori responds, “I’ve had that one drawn for months, but I haven’t done anything with it.”

Clarke nods a bit, turning a page to find a design for a sleeve. “You should definitely print that one out. I like it a lot.” The two are quiet again as Clarke examines the next few pages, stopping on a couple to write out a couple different notes about the colors or the sharpness of the lines.

She’s squinting at one of them and struggling to find words to say to her friend. Because everything with everyone is so awkward. Even after Clarke went to Raven’s therapy session, the awkwardness was pulsating between them for a couple hours. She’s going again on Monday before work, so hopefully there will be an improvement on that front. “Hey, Emori?”

“Hm?” Her friend replies from behind the counter where she’s digging for something.

“You know I’m sorry, right?”

Emori’s head pops up momentarily, and her eyes narrow. “About the last few weeks?” Clarke nods, and Emori disappears again. “Yeah, I know. You _radiate_ guilt, Clarke. I know you’re sorry. But I swear to God, if I have to hear you apologize one more time I’m going to rip my ears off. I’m so tired of hearing you apologize. Because I know that you know you screwed up. And that is enough for me. You don’t have to tell me, because I know. I would rather you show me that you’re sorry. And you being here right now is a great way to do that.”

Clarke nods again, looking down at the page in the sketchbook. “I know, I’m just—”

“Don’t,” Emori warns, but there’s a hint of laughter in her voice. “Seriously, Clarke, I get it. I was upset for a little but I’ve mellowed out about it. We all make mistakes. It happens to the best of us. Just,” Emori pauses as she hauls a binder onto the counter. “Just don’t say it anymore,” Clarke tips her head again as Emori continues. “Now, can you tell me if any of them look too similar? I’ve made so many that it starts to get lost in my head.”

* * *

 

Clarke and Monty are watching some shitty reality TV dating show when Jasper gets home. Monty had invited her over for dinner, and Clarke instantly agreed. Not only can things start to feel normal again, but she gets to eat Monty’s cooking.

“Look, I’m just saying that she eliminated the one guy who’s actually going to make money in his life. Now all she’s left with is the—what did he say he was? A goat herder?”

“A farmer,” Monty replies with a snort, reaching for his drink.

Clarke makes a face. “Big difference. A goat herder and a guy who still sleeps in his parents basement. I dunno about you Monty, but to me that just screams successful.”

Monty grins again, staring at the TV as the farmer— _goat herder_ —talks about his life on the farm. “The other one gels his hair back. I don’t know which is worse.”

“They’re both pretty bad,” Clarke agrees, “do you remember when Bellamy gelled his hair back?”

Monty’s eyes go wide for a moment. “Oh my god, I’m having war flashbacks.” And that gets Clarke to laugh heartily, her sides in stitches as laughter spills out of both of them.

“It was so bad!”

“What was so bad?”

Clarke’s head pops up from where it was buried in the couch cushions to find Jasper standing in the doorway. The tears of mirth dry in her eyes as Monty lets out another low chuckle. “Bellamy’s gelled hair.”

“Jesus,” Jasper grimaces, “that’s from the dark ages. We don’t talk about those days.”

“So bad,” Monty tells him, and Jasper glances at the TV.

“You’re watching without me? You _assholes_!” He cries, dropping his stuff and catapulting himself onto the couch between Clarke and Monty. “You fuckers said you wouldn’t start without me!”

“We got bored,” Clarke replies, and to that Jasper steals her drink and downs in. “No fair.”

Jasper shrugs. “You started without me, I deserve to steal your drink. Who’d she let go?”

“The neurosurgeon,” Clarke deadpans, and Jasper’s jaw drops. “I know! I’m just as shocked. Now the goat herder has to support her!”

Jasper stares slack-jawed at the TV for a moment. “What an _idiot_. I love this show.” Clarke laughs a bit as the oven dings. “Oo, dinner time. I got home right on time then.”

Clarke has always loved dinner with Jasper and Monty. They usually have a story to tell about what happened at school that day, and more often than not it’s a story about an accident in the chemistry lab. But right now, when they’re still on break till Monday, the conversation shifts from work to other things. Other things being Clarke’s broken relationship with her (ex?) girlfriend. “Have you talked to her?”

Clarke’s throat constricts when Monty asks her. Then, she shakes her head. Because the pain from that relationship still burns within her slightly, she just hasn’t given herself a lot of time to think about it. Her priority was her friends. She hasn’t allowed herself to think about Lexa. Partly because she doesn’t want to think about it. Because if she thinks about it, then she’ll get sad again. She moped about it for a couple days after they decided to go on a break, and spent a couple nights crying in the shower, but nothing more.

“Have you thought about what’s going to happen in a couple weeks?” Clarke shakes her head again, this time her thoughts being pulled to wondering _what will_ happen when she talks to her again.

“I don’t know,” is what Clarke says, and Jasper pours her another glass of wine. She tips her head in thanks. “I don’t know. I know that none of you guys liked her, and that should have been telling to me, but I wasn’t paying attention. And I don’t want to say that I’m happier without her, because I don’t know if I am or not, but it’s easier to see my friends when I’m not with her.”

“Breakups suck,” Jasper concludes. “They’re total ass. It took me forever to get over Maya when she moved to California. But it’s not like it stays bad forever. Like, it wasn’t bad forever after Finn and it won’t be bad forever now.”

“It wasn’t bad after Finn because I got Raven out of it,” Clarke points out, taking a long sip of her wine. “I mean, like, granted I’m getting all of my friends back after this one, or—at least I think I am. I’m trying to get all of my friends back. It just sucks right now.” The aching in her chest has lessened since the last day she spoke to Lexa, so at least that part is getting easier. It still sucks, though. Breakups _are_ total ass, in the words of Jasper Jordan.

“You’re allowed to be upset about it, you know,” Monty points out and Clarke looks at the last few bites of food on her plate. “Have you talked to anyone about it?”

Clarke shrugs. “Kind of. To my mom, and Raven a little bit. It really hasn’t been a topic on my mind the last few days. We were only together for four months, in theory it shouldn’t be hard to get over it.”

“In theory,” Monty echoes, and Clarke frowns.

“Look, it sucks. But it had to happen because none of my friends or my mother really liked her, and I understand what the relationship did to me. I’ll still have to go back and explain myself to her, which will suck, but I know why it had to happen,” Clarke reasons, pushing down the ache in her chest. It’s not the time.

“You’re handling it very well,” Jasper muses, and Clarke snorts a bit.

Monty rolls his eyes. “She’s only handling it well because she pretends she doesn’t have feelings.”

Clarke tosses her napkin at Monty and he snickers a bit. “Oh come on, I don’t do that.”

“Whatever you say,” Monty says, obviously not convinced.

“Okay listen, here’s my reasoning.” The wine is starting to get to her, but she’s not letting that stop her. “So, I like to ignore my problems because it’s either going to get worse or go away completely. That’s like a 50/50 shot that it goes away! I’m willing to take those chances!” Her friends stare at her as she sips at her wine, “honestly, it’s worked out pretty well for me.”

“How are you still living?”

“I’m not,” Clarke replies emptily, and that’s it for all of them. Jasper loses his shit and Monty drops his head to the table, his shoulders shaking with laughter. None of this is funny, but the wine is coursing through them warmly, and Clarke’s laughing for the first time in days, so she’s not going to try to fight it.

“You are a goddamn disaster,” Jasper chokes out and Clarke throws up a peace sign.

“Bisexual disaster at your service,” she responds, and that sends them over the edge again. They sit there at the kitchen table giggling and drinking wine for what feels like hours. 

* * *

 

Bellamy’s phone rings around midnight. He pauses Netflix and squints at the caller ID. Monty. He groans before answering the phone. “Hey.”

“Clarke is being a disaster and you need to come get her,” Monty spouts out very quickly and Bellamy can hear the alcohol in his voice. “Like, a _super_ disaster.”

“How much have you had to drink?” Bellamy starts, but he’s already up and grabbing his shoes and keys.

“Um,” Monty starts, and Bellamy hears Clarke and Jasper’s loud laughter from the other line. “It started with wine. And then I think it went to vodka? No, it was tequila, and then vodka. And Clarke holds lots and lots and lots of alcohol, and can’t drive. So I need _you_ to come get her before she’s an even bigger disaster.”

“Jesus,” Bellamy says, grimacing at Monty’s description of the alcohol they had. “Alright, yeah. I’m on my way.”

Bellamy can hear the laughter before he even opens the door to Monty and Jasper’s apartment. He’s taken aback by the sight in front of him. Monty and Jasper are sprawled out on the floor in front of Clarke, who’s holding up a sheet of paper with a poorly drawn picture on it. He squints at it and thinks that it’s a giraffe? Or an alien? Fuck if he knows.

“Bellamy!” Jasper shouts, “we’re playing Pictionary!”

So that’s what’s going on.

“Very bad Pictionary,” he muses back, stepping over Clarke’s shoes. “What exactly is this supposed to be?” Bellamy asks, tapping his finger on the sheet that Clarke is holding.

“I can’t tell you, or they’ll know!” Clarke replies, her eyes wide and alcohol filled, and it makes him smile a bit. “Sit down and you guess too!”

Bellamy grins a little more before sitting down on the ground next to Monty and Jasper. “Last round, and then I’m taking you home, Clarke.”

She sticks her tongue out at him, “you’re no fun, Bell.” He rolls his eyes at her but humors her, guessing along with his two friends on the floor. Giraffe is out of the guessing pool, and so is an alien, and Bellamy gives up after Monty blurts out a rhino.

“You guys are shit guessers, it’s a monkey on an airplane!” And that sends the three drunk people in the apartment into overdrive, laughing with each other.

After about five minutes of laughter, Bellamy finally pulls himself and Clarke up. She stumbles into him a bit, but he holds her up. “Alright, Drunk Disaster, time to go.”

“That’s Drunk _Bisexual_ Disaster to you, mister,” Clarke slurs and Monty and Jasper are still howling with laughter as the two of them leave. It takes five minutes to get Clarke into the car, twenty minutes to drive home, and then another five minutes to get her back into their apartment. She seems to have sobered up a tiny bit in the half hour trip home, as she’s no longer giggling about everything but instead just watching quietly. He knows from experience that she’s hit the point of slowing down. Once she stops drinking and stops laughing, she starts thinking.

Bellamy locks the door behind them as Clarke leans heavily on him. “Alright, time for bed.”

“Bellamy?”

“Hm?” He replies, flipping on the hall light before looking at his roommate.

“You know I’m sorry, yeah?”

He nods a bit, shifting her slightly. “Yeah, I do. You’ve apologized a thousand times.”

“I know, but,” she huffs, “I am. I want you to know. You’re important.”

“Good to know you don’t hate me,” he covers quickly, instead of thinking about her words.

“I don’t hate you,” she scoffs, “I just—I don’t like fighting with you.”

Bellamy nods, leaning against the wall lightly and she follows slowly. “I don’t like it either.”

Clarke chews at her lip and he fumbles with the sleeve of his jacket. “I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore.”

He pauses and looks down, because he doesn’t know if he’s really mad at her anymore. Sure, he was upset and frustrated. But she apologized, and has been spending days trying to make it up to everyone. But he doesn’t know if he’s mad anymore. “I don’t know if I’m mad at you at all,” he tells her quietly, and Clarke frowns. “But I don’t want to be mad anymore, if I am. Because you’re one of my best friends and I hate actually fighting with you.”

“Really?”

Bellamy nods, his eyes finding hers. And then he’s alarmed because there are tears in her eyes and fuck, that’s the last thing he wanted. “Hey, no, don’t do that—Clarke, don’t cry.”

“I don’t even know why I’m c-c-crying,” she hiccups, pressing her hands into her eyes. “I d-don’t cry when I’m drunk! It’s just—you’re just—”

He sighs and reaches for her, “come here.” Bellamy pulls her towards him, and his arms wrap tightly around her.

They don’t hug often. They haven’t in a while, because things have been so complicated. But she’s crying and he _hates_ seeing her cry, and Clarke is a tactile person when she’s drunk. So he wraps his arms around her shoulders and hers lock behind his back. He feels her nose into his shoulder, and his face presses into the crook of her neck, and she smells like a mixture of alcohol and vanilla.

“I’m not mad at you anymore,” he finally murmurs, and she sniffs a bit.

“Yeah?” Clarke pulls back a bit and swats at her eyes, which are a brilliant shade of blue.

Bellamy nods back, “yeah. Not anymore. You understand what happened and why it was bad. You’ve made your amends. I’m not angry anymore.”

Clarke stares at him for another moment before launching herself into another hug, except this time she’s laughing a bit. Bellamy grins widely and holds her, because fuck it, she’s his friend and he wants to.

* * *

 

“You can’t just ignore her forever.”

“I can damn well try,” Octavia spits back, and Bellamy rolls his eyes. It’s his first week back at school after the winter holidays and Octavia has called him about another incident. He doesn’t really think that it’s an incident, more like his sister overreacting about Clarke interacting with the people that are her friends.

“What exactly happened?”

“I came home from work and she was there!”

“With Raven?”

Octavia pauses and he hears the phone shift. “Yes.”

“Maybe she was helping her. She’s been doing that the last few weeks because she knows that Raven needs the help.”

His sister groans again and he sighs, pressing his head to his steering wheel. He’s been trying to leave for twenty minutes, but things just keep coming up. “That doesn’t mean she has to be in my apartment.”

“It’s Raven’s apartment too,” Bellamy sighs, rubbing his temples.

“Why are you defending her?”

That snaps his eyes wide open. Then, he’s a little irritated. “Why am I defending her? Because she’s my friend, maybe? Or maybe it’s because she’s trying her best but you still won’t let her?”

“Or maybe it’s because you’re like, in love with her?”

Bellamy blood runs cold and his stomach drops a bit. “I’m not in love with her,” he manages. Because he’s not. He got over that little crush weeks ago. The complications with their friendship and the problem of her relationship with Lexa squashed those feelings. It’s strictly platonic now.

“Mhm.”

“I’m not, O. She’s my best friend. That’s it.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes, but his heart is still pounding out of his chest. “I’m not. Sorry, it’s that simple.”

“Then why don’t you date anymore? You haven’t dated anyone since Gina and that was like three years ago.”

Now he frowns, because his sister has meddled in his personal life one too many times. “Because I don’t have time and there isn’t anyone I want to date right now.”

“Except Clarke.”

He loves his little sister, but god sometimes she is a nuisance. “I don’t want to date Clarke. There isn’t anyone I want to date right now.”

“I think you should find someone.”

He knows his sister isn’t going to relent, so he sighs. “Okay, Octavia. I’ll find someone to date.” He doesn’t know if he actually means it, but it’s enough to get her to stop bugging him about his nonexistent romantic life.

“As much as I don’t like her right now, Clarke—”

“I’m not going to date Clarke,” Bellamy repeats, unsure if his words are for her or him. Octavia scoffs and he can practically feel her rolling her eyes.

“I just think you two would be good for each other. But I don’t want you to date her right now even if you are in love with her because I’m still mad at her,” Octavia says, and Bellamy clenches his jaw a bit.

“I’m not—”

His sister makes a noise on the other end of the line and he silences himself. “You’re not, whatever, okay. But you should still find someone to date.”

If January doesn’t kill him, then his sister might.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> octavia, octavia, always meddling
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone! new chapter up. i'm really happy with how this chapter turned out, and i'm super excited for y'all to read it. i'm also really excited for the next couple of chapters, because we're approaching my favorite part of the story. but for now we have this chapter, and i hope y'all like it! also probably some errors in this one, but i've had some of this saved for so long i'm just happy it's seeing the light of day tbh
> 
> we're getting to the point of the story where i have a lot of it written, so updates may come quicker depending on how quickly i revise and edit the chapter that i have written, so that's great!
> 
> so coming up we've got some bonding time, some hard conversation, and some good old fashioned bellarke doing pointless things because they like spending time with each other. enjoy!

“Last day!” Raven cheers as the two leave the PT building. “Fuck that mountain, fuck my ACL, fuck those exercises, because I did it!”

“You did,” Clarke laughs as Raven climbs into the passenger seat of her car. “You’re done.”

Raven’s eyes sparkle and shine and then she whoops loudly. “I’m done! And they were worried I wouldn’t be able to do it.”

“You’re unstoppable, I dunno how they’d think that,” Clarke muses, unable to wipe the grin off of her face. Raven’s just _so_ happy. But because Clarke is Clarke, she’s always thinking of what comes after. So, she says, “you’ll still have to be careful for a few weeks. You’re out of PT, but I would still just take it easy and—”

“God, and we call Bellamy the mother hen,” Raven says, and Clarke momentarily frowns before she realizes Raven is just teasing. “I know, Clarke. And honestly you’re probably going to be the one to remind me of that. Cause I’ll forget and immediately try to go—I don’t know, skydive or something.”

Clarke snorts a bit, knowing that Raven has always wanted to do that. “Maybe you can go with Zeke,” she says nonchalantly, and grins widely when the tips of her cheeks turn pink and she struggles for words. “I mean, he was in the air force, so he’s got experience jumping out of planes. We can just strap you right up against him and—”

“Clarke,” Raven groans, throwing her head back in embarrassment. “You’re the worst.”

“You know you want to.”

Raven splutters for words and Clarke only smirks because she’s got her. “You don’t—how would you know—I hate you, Clarke,” is what Raven finally decides on.

“No you don’t,” she teases, moving her shoulders teasingly. “You also wouldn’t hate being strapped to Zeke.” Raven opens her mouth to argue, but then snaps it shut and Clarke knows that she’s won. “Gotcha.”

The pair are quiet for a moment as Clarke drives back through town. Then, Raven mutters, “he just flew the planes he didn’t jump out of them.”

“Big difference,” Clarke huffs, still grinning. “He probably had to train to jump out of planes just in case. Maybe I’ll get a hold of him and—”

“You will do no such thing,” Raven screeches, waving her arms wildly. When Clarke finally stops giggling, Raven has her arms crossed over her chest and is struggling to not look amused. “If it’s going to happen it’s going to happen on my own terms. Because you, Octavia, or Emori are not going to meddle in it. It’s gonna be me and only me.”

Clarke grins a bit more, because she didn’t expect anything else from Raven and the topic of her love life. She raises her right hand at a stop light. “I solemnly swear to not meddle in Raven’s love life, if that’s what she’s calling it.”

“Hey—!”

“And I’ll try not to let Emori and Octavia meddle but they’re a breed of their own.”

Raven stares at her for a moment, before she releases a huff of laughter. “You’re a dork, Clarke.”

“You love me.”

Raven rolls her eyes, and for a split second, Clarke is worried about her response. Because things have been better in the last few weeks. They’ve gotten through it, and things feel normal again. But that still doesn’t stop her from worrying. But all of her anxiety dissipates when Raven says, “yeah, I guess I do.”

Clarke nearly tears up, but she clears her throat and looks at the road. “Alright. How are we celebrating? You know I’m always down for drinking, but it’s a little too early to be drinking so—”

“To early to be drinking? Who are you?” Clarke slaps Raven’s arm playfully and Raven snickers. “Okay yeah, probably too early to be drinking. We used to do that all of the time in college and things never went well for us.”

Clarke shrugs a bit, remembering times when things did go well. “Well, do you remember when Octavia went missing for like, twelve hours?”

Raven rolls her eyes and lets a breath of air out. “Yeah, and came back with a tattooed, hunk of meat of a boyfriend? Oh yeah.”

“That went well for her,” Clarke points out and snorts a bit.

“Yeah, and they’re still together, so she won.”

Clarke rolls her eyes a bit and gets the conversation off of Octavia. She doesn’t want to talk about her friend who might not even be her friend anymore. “Seriously, how are we celebrating? This is huge, Rae.”

Raven thinks for a minute before she smiles a little bit. “Can we do the thing that they do in _The Princess Diaries_ and fill balloons with paint and use darts to pop them?”

A wide and bright smile breaks out onto Clarke’s face. “That shouldn’t even be a question. Let’s go.” 

* * *

 

Bellamy drags his pen over the essay in front of him for the thousandth time. The new semester brought new students, and while he loves his students, they really have got to work on their writing skills. He’s not an English teacher, but he holds his students to a high standard.

He rubs at his eyes as there’s a knock on the door and puts down his pen. Once at the door, he frowns when he sees Octavia and Lincoln standing outside, the former looking livid and the latter looking sheepish. Bellamy almost doesn’t want to open the door, because then that means opening the can of worms.

But there’s another knock and he doesn’t have a choice. So he opens the door and Lincoln lightly pushes Octavia inside and Bellamy raises his brow. “I’m leaving her here until she works out her shit with Clarke. She obviously misses her but she’s too stubborn to say anything. So, here she is.”

Bellamy turns to face his sister to find her sitting on the couch, arms crossed so tightly she might break them. “Thanks?”

Lincoln looks at his girlfriend before turning back to Bellamy. “I’m tired of hearing her complain about it. I love your sister to death, but this grudge is getting to the point of being ridiculous. She’s worked it out with everyone else but Octavia and it needs to be worked out.” For one of the first times ever, Bellamy feels mad respect for his sister’s boyfriend. Because it’s fucking hard to get Octavia to do anything that she doesn’t want to do, so the fact that she’s here right now is huge.

But Bellamy’s not gonna let either of them know that he has more respect for Lincoln than ever, and instead just nods and glances back at his sister. “Clarke’s not here right now, but she should be home from work soon.”

Lincoln nods and looks at Octavia who’s staring at the TV with such a fiery gaze Bellamy’s afraid it’s going to blow up. “I’ll come get her later.”

Bellamy bids the other man goodbye and turns back towards his sister. “Seriously? It got so bad that _Lincoln_ had to get involved? That man _hates_ being involved!”

Octavia lets out a low breath, but otherwise doesn’t say anything. Bellamy presses his fingers into his eyes and returns to the table to keep grading essays. The apartment is filled with stony silence for what feels like hours, neither of the siblings saying anything to the other.

At about half past six, Clarke finally gets home. “Bellamy! Do you remember that patient that we thought had—” But then she stops short when she sees Octavia in the living room. Clarke glances at Bellamy and he only shakes his head and looks back at the essays. “Hey, O.”

Octavia stares for a moment, and Clarke coughs awkwardly before kicking her shoes off. Bellamy tries to make himself as small as possible. He wishes nothing more than to disappear. Why did Lincoln have to drag his sister over when he was still here? He couldn’t have waited until Bellamy was gone to avoid the fire that’s undoubtedly going to happen? He’s expecting a dumpster fire.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Clarke go towards the fridge, opening it and looking for dinner. She clears her throat, “I’m gonna have some leftover lasagna. Bellamy, Octavia do you want any?” Bellamy shakes his head quickly. Then, he’s surprised.

“Yeah. I’ll have some,” his sister says from her spot on the couch. “A corner piece,” she says, right when Clarke asks, “a corner piece?” A testament to how well they know each other. The room goes quiet again and Bellamy tries to focus on the paper in front of him, but it’s useless. He’s read the same sentence four times and let’s face it, Bellamy’s curious to see what’s gonna happen.

Clarke hands Octavia the plate and he desperately wishes he knew what either of them were thinking. The blonde sits on the other end of the couch opposite of Octavia, and for a few minutes all they can hear is the clink of silverware.

Finally, Octavia says, “look—”

And Clarke starts “listen—"

And goddammit, if Octavia doesn’t work this shit out he’s gonna be pissed because they’re friends and have been for years.

“You go first,” Octavia finally says and Clarke nods.

She places her plate down and curls up into the side of the couch and Bellamy’s given up on pretending to grade. “I know I hurt you, and I’ve apologized hundreds of times, and you’re the only person I haven’t made peace with. And it’s frustrating as fuck, because you’re one of my closest friends, and you won’t even talk to me about a mistake I’ve been correcting for two months. And I just want to know why.” Yikes. Mega dumpster fire, then.

Octavia is quiet again, most likely trying to find a way to get angry again because that’s what she does. Then she surprises him yet again. “Because I was worried I was going to lose my oldest friend. That doesn’t excuse my actions of the last two months, but I was hurt and angry. And honestly, the only reason that I’m here right now is because Lincoln dragged me over to work it out, and that was a wakeup call. If Lincoln, who usually keeps his opinions to himself, tells me that I’m being an idiot, then I’m probably being an idiot.”

Now Bellamy is completely alarmed, because he doesn’t think he’s ever once heard his sister admit that she’s being an idiot. Who’s sitting in his living room and what have they done with Octavia Blake?

“So I’m sorry too, because I suck and decided to push everything I was feeling inward instead of talking to you about it. I know I need to work on it, because I’ve been doing it for years. I’m trying,” Octavia finally says, and Bellamy glances at Clarke to see what she’s feeling. He can usually read her expression, but right now it’s locked down. Man, he really wishes he could read minds.

Clarke sits on that piece of information for a while, and Octavia sits tall, awaiting whatever is thrown at her. Then Clarke says, “okay. I get it. I screwed up, and made you think I was abandoning you, which is something…” Clarke doesn’t have to finish the sentence, but he senses that Octavia knows what she was referring to. Both Bellamy’s dad and Octavia’s dad either ran or never were around, and their mother always had some issues being present. “But you also kinda treated me like shit for a couple months, which, I guess I deserved on some level. So, that’s a thing that happened.”

And then Bellamy’s not really sure how it happens, but then both women are crying and _fuck_ , both women are crying. He can barely handle when _one_ of them is crying, let alone _two_. So he just lumbers into the living room and picks up their plates so they don’t have to. Then, he puts a blanket around the two crying women, and drops a kiss onto both of their heads. Clarke looks a bit startled, but then she’s back to crying with his sister.

His girls are a goddamn mess but he just wants them to be friends again.

* * *

 

Clarke digs in the hall closet for what she’s looking for. The wine is making her feel all warm and happy, and she gets the feeling it’s not going to stop for a while. “Ah ha!” She shouts triumphantly when her hands find what she needs.

“What are you getting?” Bellamy calls from the kitchen and she grins before dropping the box onto the table. “A one-thousand piece puzzle.”

She nods quickly before opening it, “yep. And I’m gonna finish it tonight.”

He stares at her, his glass held between his mouth and the table. “It’s one thousand pieces. You’re good, but you’re not that good.”

“I did it in college once. With Raven and Octavia.”

“But now it’s just you,” Bellamy tells her, but even as he says it, he’s flipping pieces over.

“Oh, like you’re not going to help. You love puzzles.”

His eyes narrow momentarily before he heaves an overexaggerated sigh. “You got me. Hand me the box,” he says, and Clarke laughs giddily.

The next several minutes are spent in silence as they sort through the puzzle pieces. Clarke likes to find all of the edge pieces first, and Bellamy likes to sort them by color, so they bicker about that for a moment. Clarke wins the argument when she finds six edge pieces in succession, and Bellamy frowns, but he still has that twinkle in his eye.

So they sit in relative silence for a while, occasionally asking for the box. After twenty minutes, they’ve got the border finished and Clarke smiles smugly and Bellamy just rolls his eyes with a grin.

Clarke hums along a tune for a moment, scanning over the pieces. The puzzle is of a bunch of buildings, and it’s a fucking difficult puzzle, but she wants to finish it tonight to prove that she can. And it’s a good way to spend time with Bellamy, which she hasn’t gotten to do recently. She’s been so busy fucking working that she’s struggled to find time for everyone, especially him.

“If you find a piece that looks like it’s been through a damn meat grinder, give it to me. This shape is fucking impossible,” Bellamy gruffs, and Clarke searches her side of the table.

“What color is it?”

Bellamy squints at the box and the puzzle for a moment before throwing his hands up a bit. “Fuck if I know. You picked the most complicated puzzle in the closet, Clarke.”

She sticks her tongue out at him and takes the box from him quickly. Out of the corner of her eye she seems him get up and lumber to the living room for his glasses before collapsing back into the chair.

Clarke finds herself staring at him as his glasses fall down the bridge of his nose as he works on the puzzle. They’re thick framed and admittedly a little weird, but they’re so… Bellamy. They fit him and who he is. He’s a massive nerd and _of course_ his glasses would be made for a massive nerd.

“Ah ha!” Bellamy says triumphantly, reaching to her side of the table for a piece. “It’s blue!”

Clarke smiles a bit as Bellamy places the puzzle piece in the puzzle with a look of joy. “Aren’t you glad I pulled out the puzzle?” He tosses a piece at her and it hits her in the forehead, and all he does is smirk. “If only that was the one I was looking for, then it would’ve been great.”

He tosses another one and it lands in her hair. “Try that one,” he replies, not even looking up. She rolls her eyes but looks at it quickly before doing a double take.

“Oh my god, you got it.”

“I’m just the best puzzler ever.”

“Puzzler?” Clarke asks, a laugh rising in her throat.

Bellamy waves his hand at her, finally glancing up. “Well what else would you call an expert puzzle maker?”

“Not a puzzler.”

“You’re no fun.”

Clarke snorts a bit and looks at his side of the table for another piece she needs. “Hey, I’m the one who brought out the puzzle. So, really, I’m the one you can thank for your expert puzzle skills.”

“Puzzler,” he grumbles under his breath, but she detects a hint of a smile.

They continue in silence for a while, Clarke finally giving in to Bellamy’s idea to sort them by color, and he smirks the whole time because “I knew you’d come around”. She hates to admit it, but the strategy works. Not that she’s going to admit that he’s a master puzzler or anything, because that would be _absurd_ , but he’s good at them.

Clarke rubs at her eyes and Bellamy looks at his watch. “Jesus, it’s only eight-thirty.”

“Hey, it’s eight-thirty and we have like, a quarter of this finished. That takes skill. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Ugh, can we at least take a break? I think my eyes are bleeding,” he tells her, pushing back his chair. “You want hot chocolate?”

“I have wine.”

“You can have both,” Bellamy replies, already rummaging in the cabinets for the hot chocolate mix. “Why deprive yourself of the best things in life?”

Clarke laughs a bit at his words because yeah, wine and chocolate are pretty good. And she’s got Hershey’s Chocolate Bars on her socks of the day, so yeah, hot chocolate is a good idea. So she stands and slides to the kitchen, getting the milk out of the fridge. They work in companionable silence for the few minutes it takes to make the hot chocolate. Then, Clarke pops ten mini marshmallows into each of their mugs because they both love it when they dissolve and make the hot chocolate sweeter than before.

They take a break from the puzzle and instead take their hot chocolate (and wine) to the living room to lounge on the couch. They did a quarter of a puzzle they deserve this, okay? So they plop on the couch and Clarke rests her feet on Bellamy’s legs because the coffee table is pushed too far away. He tries to look annoyed, but it falls flat when he grins at her. “You’re short.”

“You’re not even that tall,” Clarke hums in response, but secretly deciding that he’s just as tall as he needs to be.

Bellamy huffs a bit, but doesn’t say anything about her comment. Instead, they start bickering about what TV show they should start watching, since they finished _Prison Break_ months ago. It starts with _The Office_ , but they’ve both seen that entire show like six times through. Then it goes to _Parks & Recreation_, which Bellamy watches with Octavia, so that’s a bust. Clarke wants to watch the show that’s about juvenile delinquents traveling through space but Bellamy wants to watch the show that’s about history and based off of _The Ovid_.

“We are terrible at decisions,” Clarke finally concludes, dropping the remote on the couching. She’s been scrolling through Netflix for what feels like days. “The only thing we ever agree on is what Chinese food to get.”

It takes her a second and then—

“I’m ordering Chinese.”

“Oh, get me the egg rolls,” Bellamy says as she reaches for her phone, quickly calling the number she kinda has memorized.

And soon enough, they have their Chinese food, a show picked out ( _Queen of the South_ ) and they’re back to working on the puzzle. They’re on a roll and the puzzle is finally looking like a puzzle.

On top of that, Clarke is _happy_. The feeling of warm, contentness settles in her stomach and she knows it’s not because of the Chinese. It’s because she’s in her apartment with her best friend doing something incredibly stupid and fun on a Saturday night, and she loves it. She loves the easy relationship that she and Bellamy have, despite their troubles at the beginning and recently. She likes knowing that even if she just sits and does nothing for hours, he’ll most likely sit and do nothing too. She’s happy.

Clarke is too busy being happy to realize that her phone is ringing. Bellamy waves a hand in front of her face, and it snaps her out of it. She fumbles for her phone on the side of the table, still looking at the puzzle before pulling it up to see who’s calling. And then she frowns, because Lexa is calling her.

She holds up a finger to Bellamy and he nods briefly before turning his head back to the puzzle. Clarke disappears down the hall and presses the green button. “Hello?”

“Clarke.”

“Lexa,” she responds, heart hammering in her chest. “Uh—hi, um, how have you been?”

Lexa laughs coldly and Clarke feels her face contort into an _oh fuck_ kinda face. “You said you wouldn’t just leave me hanging.”

Realization smacks Clarke in the face and then she really has an _oh fuck_ expression plastered on her face. “Fuck. Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I said I wouldn’t and I did. And I’m sorry,” she tells her quickly, trying to ignore the bit of shame that’s seeping into her. Because that’s all Lexa asked for, and she didn’t do that.

But then Lexa sighs over the phone and Clarke chews at her lip. “I know. I expected it honestly, but I think it was for the better. I was angry at you for a while, but I’m not now. I was just calling to tell you that, and make sure we were on the same page.”

“And what page is that?” Clarke asks, but she’s pretty sure she knows.

Lexa hesitates for a moment. “That we’re broken up, done, smashed into pieces.”

“I wouldn’t say it like that,” Clarke mumbles, and she hears Lexa’s snort on the other line. “I am sorry, though.”

“I know. It’s okay. I am too. Things work out with your friends?”

Clarke shrugs, and then realizes that Lexa can’t see her, and quickly answers. “Yeah. For the most part.”

“Good.”

The phone crackles with awkward silence, until Clarke vagely hears Bellamy cursing at the puzzle and she clears her throat. “I uh, I gotta go. I’m sorry with how it turned out.”

“I am, too.”

Clarke swallows whatever awkward comment she was going to make and instead chews at her lip again. “See you around, Lexa.”

And when she hangs up, Clarke feels no pang of longing or loss or anything. She still feels that same happy feeling she had only a few minutes previously.

They end up finishing the puzzle half past two when they're both beyond delirious and all Clarke can think is that it was so worth it. 

* * *

 

Clarke’s laying on Raven and Octavia’s couch moaning about a hospital gala she’s required to go to. They do it every year, and their fundraising was super successful this year, so they’re making a big deal about it. It’s not that she doesn’t want to go, she just doesn’t want to deal with all of the preparations. In fact, she loves the hospital gala. It’s a great time to see patients and their families and see all of the good things that have happened to them. But god, everything else about the gala makes her want to vomit with anxiety.

“I just don’t understand why they’re asking us all to go!”

“Because it’s important?” Raven suggests, and Clarke scoffs. “Is there a reason why you don’t want to go?”

Clarke shrugs a bit, ignoring the question. She hears Octavia on the phone in her room and tries to tune it out. Since their chat a week and a half ago, things have been better. They’re not exactly where they were before, but anything is an improvement. They’ll just have to work on it. Besides, just being able to be around both of her friends at the same time is enough for Clarke. 

“Clarke.”

Clarke shrugs again and then sighs. “It’s just—they make it so it’s a dressy event. Like, bring a date kinda event.”

Raven nods in solemn understanding. “Is there anyone you’d want to bring?”

She shakes her head. “Lexa and I only broke up two months ago, I don’t know if I’m over it yet.”

Now Raven rolls her eyes. “Didn’t you say like, four nights ago that when you two officially broke up you didn’t feel anything? No sadness, nothing, just indifference? I would say you’re pretty over it.”

Clarke huffs. “That doesn’t mean that I want to jump right back into a relationship. I would much rather go alone than with a date.”

“They say it only takes about as half as long as the relationship was to get over someone. And based upon what you’ve told me, it sounds like you’re over it,” Raven says thoughtfully, taking a sip from her wine. Clarke frowns and processes her friends words because yeah, she’s right. She is over it, and probably has been for a couple weeks. Obviously the sting of a relationship ending lingers for a bit, but she legitimately hasn’t felt that sting in a couple weeks.

“Why don’t you ask Bellamy?” Raven says suddenly, and Clarke can feel her cheeks redden a bit at the words.

“He probably has stuff to do,” she replies, busying herself with a drink.

Raven’s eyes practically roll out of her head. “Come on, Clarke. Don’t tell me you don’t want to invite him. He’d go if you asked.”

“I don’t want to,” she huffs, taking a long drink. She’s lying to herself. She knows that. Raven knows that. She wants Bellamy to go with her because it’d be fun. She’d enjoy having him there. He’s her best friend and it would be nice to have him be a part of this huge thing in her life.

“You’re such a liar,” Raven snorts, “you probably want to sleep with him, too.” Her cheeks flame because no, she absolutely _does not_ want to sleep with him.

Octavia choses that moment to enter the room. “Sleep with who?”

“Your brother,” Raven calls back, grinning at the face Octavia makes. “Look, you asked.”

“I didn’t expect you to answer,” Octavia grumbles, pouring herself a glass of wine.

Raven snickers and Clarke tries to ignore her thoughts. She shakes herself back to the present and Raven smirks. “You’re lying to yourself, Griffin.”

“I am not,” but even as she says it she feels like she’s lying. “I’m not,” she says again, as if to reassure herself, “I don’t want to sleep with him.”

Both of her friends roll their eyes and go back to their wine. “Whatever you say, Clarke. I’m sure he’d still go with you.”

Besides, she doesn’t have feelings for him. Or anyone, for that matter. She and Lexa only broke up a couple months ago. It’ll just be two friends going to a fancy party together because that’s what friends do. Yeah. She can ask him as a friend and everything will totally be fine. She’s got this. 

* * *

 

“I need a favor,” Clarke says, dropping onto the couch next to Bellamy. She props her feet up on his legs, and settles into the couch. He shoots her a fake look of annoyance but then grins, prompting her.

“Do I look like I’m going to accept the favor?”

She rolls her eyes, “you will because I’m the best.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes and mutes the TV. “Not sure if best would be the right word, annoying might be the better one—” He’s cut off when Clarke whacks him with a pillow, and he lets out a low chuckle. “Alright. What’s up?”

Now, she’s nervous and Bellamy waits patiently. This is kind of like asking him on a date. A date where they dress up nicely and he meets her coworkers. But it wouldn’t be a date because they’re just friends. Friends who live together and that’s it. Yeah. “I have this thing.” He raises a brow. “This thing for work. We do this big fundraiser every year and we raised more money this year than we have in like, ten years, and they’re making a really big deal about it and want us all to be there. And I wanted to know if you wanted to come.” The words fall out of her in a rush and he takes a moment to process. And then he nods, clearing his throat.

“Yeah. Sure, I’d love to,” she tries to stop herself from beaming. “When is it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all i'm so excited you have no idea.
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick update! this chapter was already like half written and i was super eager to get it posted, so i hope that you enjoy! there's probably more errors in here but if there are any major ones let me now and i'll edit them out!
> 
> i don't have much to say besides i'm really, really excited that y'all are enjoying this story as much as you are! it makes me truly happy and it encourages me to write faster, so kudos to you. honestly, would not be working this fast if i didn't have y'all.

Two weeks later though, going to the gala with Bellamy seems like a terrible decision. She’s tried to formulate a message to Raven expressing this fear, but she’s never gotten past _I am afraid_ , so obviously things are going great.

It also doesn’t help that it’s been one of the longest days of her life. A patient thought that she was his wife and she had to talk him down. She’s running late. And her stomach is a bundle of nerves that she keeps desperately trying to push down.

She goes sprinting into the apartment to find Bellamy sitting on the couch, already ready to go. “Sorry! Give me like, thirty minutes!” She calls as she barricades herself in her room because oh fuck, maybe this was a bad idea.

Clarke’s on turbo speed the entire time she’s getting ready. She takes one of the fastest showers ever and then she’s trying to dry her hair and brush her teeth at the same time. But then that’s a problem because she gets toothpaste in her hair and it’s a big mess.

By the time she’s fully ready, the nerves in her stomach haven’t subsided and she doesn’t know why. She’s been to a couple of the hospital events before, and it’s never been like this. She doesn’t have to speak tonight, she doesn’t have to do anything except show up and talk to some of the patients and their parents. But yet, her nerves are so high it’s like they’re on a rocket ship just going up, and up, and up.

Clarke shakes it off and glances at herself another time in the mirror and nods. Not bad for someone who got home thirty minutes ago. She slips on her shoes before opening her door and walking down the hallway.

She finds Bellamy struggling to put on his tie and she smiles fondly. He gives her an exasperated look before holding it out to her. “It won’t tie.”

Clarke snorts a bit before taking it from him. “You’re a teacher and you don’t know how to tie a tie?”

“I don’t wear ties often,” he grumbles as she loops it around his neck. “They’re too difficult to put on.”

“Who ties them when you get to school, then?” Clarke asks, but she’s teasing him a bit.

He makes a face, “Monty. He’s good at everything.” Clarke grins a bit and he chuckles and oh yeah, this was definitely a bad idea. His proximity to her is _a lot_ and she can smell his cologne. But she ties his tie diligently, and he grins when she steps back. “You look good.”

The compliment sparks something in her stomach but she pushes it down. This is just a thing with a friend. That’s all it is. But the blush on her face is unmistakable, so she ducks her head, reaching for her phone and wallet. “Not so bad yourself, Blake.” And he does. Bellamy Blake in a suit? It’s doing things to her stomach.

He smiles warmly at her before locking the front door. “Alright. Let’s go.”

The ride to the venue is quiet, but comfortable. Clarke still feels like she’s going to explode and she doesn’t know why, but she chalks it up to the fact that she has to see all of her bosses. And her mother.

Her mother is a huge donor for the hospital. While she only works at Arkadia General twice a week, she still finds it within her to donate for new equipment, medical training, and other things that long-term patients might need. In this gala’s case, her mother has donated for the children who visit the hospital regularly.

Every year the hospital puts on a fundraiser to provide money for things that children who frequent the hospital might need. This includes blankets and toys, cribs for the premies, honestly anything that they might ever need. Clarke doesn’t work in pediatrics often, but when she does she always feels compelled to give something to the cause.

Bellamy nudges her side and takes her out of her thoughts. “Hey,” he mutters, “you alright?”

Clarke nods as the taxi comes to a stop and she clambers out of the vehicle. “Yeah,” Clarke answers. “This is just important to me.”

Bellamy grins a bit, looking up at the venue. “Apparently it’s important to the entire world. Jesus, your hospital is rich.”

She rolls her eyes and they hurry up the steps to the hotel where this thing is being held. He follows closely behind her and almost as soon as they’re admitted inside, Clarke runs smack into her boss.

“Oh my god, I’m so—” then she freezes because Dr. Charles Pike is standing right there. “Hi! Dr. Pike!”

Pike grins a bit at her, but Clarke is so alarmed at running into her boss so early that she sees it as more of a grimace. “Clarke, you know my name. You should use it, it’s only polite,” Pike says, but his eyes are striking and a little off-putting. Bellamy huffs out a laugh that sounds like a snort and Clarke resists the urge to elbow him.

Clarke forces a grin and nods, “of course, yeah.”

Pike’s curious eyes land on Bellamy, and his eyebrows raise just slightly. “And this is…”

“Bellamy,” Clarke introduces him quickly and Bellamy and Pike shake hands. “My roommate.”

Understanding washes over Pike’s face. “Ah. So this is the roommate that’s been keeping you alive?” This time, when Bellamy snickers, Clarke elbows him hard.

“I do not need to be kept alive,” Clarke huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and Bellamy smirks at her.

“She’s a handful,” Pike says, and Clarke wants to disappear. Because she’s never really had a conversation with her boss that isn’t about her job, so this is very awkward and a little alarming.

Now she lets out an exasperated sigh and frowns at Bellamy, but a smile is threatening to overtake her face. “That’s why you have two hands!”

Bellamy’s smile widens and Clarke turns back to Pike, desperately trying to find a way out of this conversation. “Bellamy, as long as you get her to eat something other than macaroni and cheese and Chinese takeout, you’re doing great in my book. Nurses are never good at feeding themselves,” Pike replies, but he’s still glancing around the room quickly.

“Oh, I noticed. When she moved in she didn’t know what a vegetable was.”

“Hey!”

But Bellamy only grins some more, tugging on her hair lightly. “At least I taught you.”

Pike is watching them with an expression that Clarke can’t place, but she decides that she wants to get out of there. “Okay, that’s enough slander of my eating habits, which are fine by the way,” she points out to Pike, but he only raises his hands.

“I’m not getting involved. Besides, I must keep moving around. Nice to see you Clarke, and nice to meet you Bellamy,” Pike says, and bids them goodbye. Clarke watches him for a moment before turning back to Bellamy.

“What?”

“You don’t like him, do you?”

Clarke raises a brow. “Who, Pike?” Bellamy nods and his eyes follow Pike as he walks back into the ballroom. Then she shrugs. “He’s alright. He was one of my mentors when I was studying to be a nurse, and was one of the people who got me the job at Arkadia, so like I owe him my career. I just think that he needs a little work on how to talk to patients.”

“Fair enough,” Bellamy replies thoughtfully, his eyes still darting around the hotel. “It doesn’t seem like he’d have good bedside manner.”

Clarke laughs a bit before pulling Bellamy by the hand into the room. She’s only a little disappointed when he drops it after they’ve made it inside. “He’s not, that’s why he’s the chief. He only talks to patients when it’s absolutely necessary.”

Bellamy’s about to say something, but then Clarke gets distracted by the child running at her. But she laughs when she realizes that it’s Madi, and that she actually got the OK to come out for the night. Clarke doesn’t even have time to explain who she is to Bellamy before Madi’s nearly knocked her over in a hug.

“Clarke! You’re here!”

“I’m here!” Clarke laughs back, wrapping Madi in a tight hug. “I can’t believe _you’re_ here!”

Madi giggles a bit and releases Clarke. “They let me out of jail for the night.”

Clarke scoffs, but she’s grinning when she says, “I hardly doubt it’s jail in there. Not like your parents have brought your entire room to the hospital or anything,” Clarke replies, glancing up to find Madi’s foster parents watching the two of them fondly. Clarke waves a bit and Madi waves just as enthusiastically.

Then, the twelve-year-old turns and narrows her eyes at Bellamy. “Who’s this?” She asks it almost accusingly and Clarke feels the pang in her chest that she gets when Madi meets someone she doesn’t know.

“Uh, this is Bellamy. My roommate,” recognition dawns on Madi’s face, and Clarke prays to god that she keeps her mouth shut. “Bellamy, this is Madi.”

Madi sticks out her hand for Bellamy to shake, and he looks bewildered and amused all at once. But he shakes her hand lightly and grins at her. “Nice to meet you, Madi.”

She still looks apprehensive, so Clarke speaks up quickly. “I met Madi… what do you think, Mads, three years ago?”

“Four?” Madi suggests, and then ticks it out on her fingers. “Four.”

“Four years ago. Madi has leukemia,” Clarke tells Bellamy, and his expression drops so quickly it’s like he was pulled into the ocean by a wrecking ball. “But, she’s been in remission for a year?”

“One freaking year,” Madi says proudly and Clarke swats her shoulder, but can’t stop herself from smiling.

“That’s great, Madi,” Bellamy says, and Clarke can tell that he means it. She’s hit with this sudden rush of affection for the man standing in front of her. He met Madi all of three seconds ago and is already finding ways to make her grin. “One freaking year. That’s awesome.”

“It’s great,” Madi tells him confidently. “They made me come stay in the hospital because I was feeling dizzy. Dizzy,” she grumbles, as if it’s absurd. But Bellamy has enough grace to look like it’s absurd too.

“That’s lame,” is what he tells her and a smile breaks onto Clarke’s face as Madi looks up at him with admiration. Unfortunately, that admiration doesn’t last long before she gets the look that she gets when she’s about to embarrass Clarke.

“Clarke tells lots of stories,” Madi starts, and Clarke feels her eyes go wide and her cheeks go pink. “You’re in like, a lot of them.”

“Is that so?”

Madi nods rapidly despite Clarke’s insistence for her to be quiet. “Yeah, like _all_ of them. The one where you vacuumed the door? Genius,” Madi says raising her hand up to high five him. Bellamy looks shocked but he still high fives her. “But it’s not only you, like Octavia and Raven are in them too. I think Octavia’s a badass.”

“Madi!” Clarke scolds, but she’s really just trying to get the attention off of herself because Bellamy is staring at her with the weirdest expression on his face. “You’re not supposed to use those words.”

Madi shoots Bellamy an exasperated look. “One year away from being a teenager and yet I am still a child.”

“Overdramatic,” Clarke teases, and Madi grins widely at her. “Go back to Cheryl and Bill, I’ll come over and talk to them in a minute.” Madi nods, and quickly says goodbye to Bellamy before scurrying over to her foster parents. Clarke watches her go and Bellamy clears his throat. Once she turns, he raises a brow.

“Stories?”

Clarke groans. “I need a drink,” she tells him, and he follows her to the bar. “The day that she was diagnosed, I was interning in pediatrics. It was one of the years when I was studying in a hospital most of the time, and I was being pushed through the different sections.” They get to the bar and Clarke fiddles with a string on her dress. “I was her nurse that day. Her parents had just died in a house fire, and she had only been placed with Cheryl and Bill two months before, so she was still alone when I went to check on her.”

Bellamy nods a bit and Clarke worries her lip for a moment, feeling infinitely embarrassed about having to tell Bellamy that she tells stories about him. Madi’s a traitor. “She told me that her foster parents would be there soon, but I didn’t want her to be alone. So I sat down and I started talking to her and at first it was stories about Raven and Octavia because they were my roommates. And then it shifted to stories about everyone, and recently it shifted to stories about you, because I live with you.”

Bellamy nods for a moment, and then he gives her that lopsided grin that makes her heart do something funny. “Oh, so it has nothing to do with the fact that I’m obviously your favorite?”

“God, you have a talent for taking a sentimental moment and turning it into a shitshow.”

“It’s my shining quality,” he deadpans, but Clarke laughs at his words. Okay yeah, maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to invite him. 

* * *

 

Bellamy’s enjoying himself. Well, as much as he can enjoy himself when he’s in a fancy hotel and knows exactly one person. But, he’s got a good drink and people watching is always lots of fun, especially at big events like this. He will say that he still feels incredibly out of place.

And Clarke is telling him a story and her eyes are bright and shining so he’s going to put up with it. He’s glad that she wanted to share this part of her life with him. It’s rare that he gets let in on what’s going on inside of the hospital. There have been a couple times when they’ve lost a patient that she knew and he’s come home to find her curled on the couch crying, but other than that she really doesn’t share much of her life as a nurse. So he’s glad that she’s willing to do it now.

“So, what exactly happens at these kind of events? I’ve never been to a fancy dinner party,” Bellamy asks as the two of them stand around a table together.

Clarke looks at him and then grins a bit. “Honestly? Don’t really have a clue either. Last year I was only here for about twenty minutes before my mom and I got in a fight, and the year before that I didn’t go because I was actually working. I think they have speeches, and food, and a lot of talking.”

“Great,” Bellamy says, feeling more and more out of place by the second.

“Hey,” she says, setting her hand lightly on his forearm. “I said I only had to make an appearance. If we get bored we can go ahead and leave and get—I dunno, waffles or something.” Her eyes sparkle and he’s grateful that she’s able to read him so well.

“Waffles sound great,” he concludes, and she grins before squeezing his arm lightly. He looks up and glances around and is immediately panicked because Abby Griffin is making a beeline towards them. “Clarke,” he says, the alarm heightening in his voice. “Your mother—”

“Clarke!”

Clarke’s eyebrows shoot up before she turns to face her mother. “Mom! I didn’t know when you’d be here!”

“They asked me to give a speech,” Abby explains, setting her glass of champagne down on the table and Bellamy wants the ground to open up and swallow him. He and Abby Griffin aren’t exactly on the best of terms. Meaning, she doesn’t like him. Or, when Clarke was in college she didn’t like him. She thought that he was a bad influence on Octavia, Clarke, and Raven, even though he really didn’t do anything wrong.

“That’ll be good,” Clarke muses, taking a drink from her champagne to avoid saying anything else. “When are the speeches?”

“Soon,” Abby tells her and he watches as Abby’s eyes flit to him. “Bellamy, it’s nice to see you.”

“You too, Mrs. Griffin.”

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she says, her eyes glancing towards Clarke, who’s turned pink.

“Clarke invited me,” he explains quickly, grinning at his friend. “I was happy to come.”

Abby nods again, still looking a bit suspicious about the fact that he’s at a hospital gala, but she drops the subject. Instead, she asks about what Bellamy’s been up to, which shocks him into silence. “Uh,” he stutters, “I teach high school.”

“Why high school?”

For the next several minutes, Abby asks Bellamy questions about his life which is shocking and a little bit terrifying. She’s never particularly been interested in him so this 180 is a lot to take in. She’s just started asking him about what he plans to do with his future which, is a terrifying question okay, when she realizes she has to go give her speech.

“What the hell was that?” He asks Clarke when Abby is out of earshot.

“I have no idea,” she responds, sounding just as shocked as she does. “She like, grilled you.”

Bellamy nods, watching as a group of people make their way to the front of the room for their speeches. “I feel like I’ve just been interrogated, Jesus,” he says, and Clarke laughs a bit before going silence.

For the most part, Bellamy tunes out during the speeches. It’s not that he’s not interested in what they have to say, he is, he just doesn’t understand half of what they’re talking about. It’s great that they fundraise so much and they got as much money as they did, but he doesn’t get where half of the money is going towards.

But Clarke looks thrilled that she’s here, and she’s laughing at some of the speeches, so that’s enough to get him to be glad he’s there. She’s been… different, lately. A good different. Happier, and warmer. Bellamy’s overjoyed that she’s finally gotten her light back after those few bad weeks with her ex and their friends. She’s been more herself and more open and he’s grateful that they were able to fall back into the easy friendship they had before everything went up in flames.

Clarke looks at him as the speeches finish, and he finds something in her eyes that he can’t place. The only expression he’s certain of is _happiness_. Clarke Griffin looks _so happy_.

“Speeches are over,” is what she tells him, a bright smile on her face, “can we get waffles?”

“I’m down for waffles,” Bellamy breathes lightly and Clarke’s face lights up like the fucking sun.

So twenty minutes later they’re sitting at The Hen House looking absolutely ridiculous in their formal clothes. But neither of them seems to care as they both order chicken and waffles and laugh together about the stupid things that their friends do.

“I’m pretty sure that Jasper’s gonna set the school on fire eventually,” Bellamy says conversationally and Clarke snorts. “Look, I’m just saying that if one day you get an alert or whatever it is that nurses get, and it’s about a fire at a high school, it was probably Jasper. That chemistry lab is not going to survive much longer.”

Clarke laughs and takes a sip of her water. “I would not be surprised if it was his fault. I’m surprised that they let him teach rebellious teenagers.”

“Jasper’s good with them, though,” Bellamy argues, laughing when Clarke rolls her eyes. “I’m serious! He’s smart and the kids respect him. I don’t respect him so that probably causes some problems—” Clarke kicks him lightly in the shin. “That hurt, Princess.”

The tips of her cheeks turn pink but she only looks down at the table. “You should probably respect him, you know.”

“Probably,” Bellamy echoes, just as their food gets to the table. The next few minutes are spent in relative silence, as both of them dig in. He didn’t realize how starved he was until now. The gala had some good appetizers and such, but nothing compares to some good chicken and waffles.

“Hey, Bellamy?” Clarke finally says as he’s finishing up his plate. He looks up and grins. “Thanks for coming with me tonight. I know it’s this fancy thing that you’re not used to but—I really appreciate it.”

“I had fun, Clarke. Really. Honestly, I had fun at the gala, but I’m having more fun here.”

And she fucking beams. 

* * *

 

Bellamy’s been happy lately. Like, really happy.

Not that he’s always in a bad mood, but this happiness is different. It’s a lighter type of happiness, one that consumes you.

Clarke notices it one Saturday morning when she gets home from work. He’s whistling. She doesn’t think, in all of her years of knowing Bellamy, that he’s ever whistled. But now he is. He’s whistling and making pancakes and Clarke can’t find it within her to be confused.

She stands in the doorway for a second, her jaw a little slack. Bellamy turns and grins when he sees her, holding up a plate. “I made pancakes.”

“I see that,” Clarke says, rubbing the exhaustion out of her eyes. She’s been so busy with work lately, and usually she goes to bed right after she gets home, but Bellamy’s pancakes are too good. “What’s the occasion?”

Bellamy sets the plate on the counter and she slouches onto the bar stool. Clarke reaches over and grabs the syrup and douses her plate in it, successfully making everything and sweet and sticky mess. “Does there have to be an occasion?”

Clarke rolls her eyes and takes a large bit, nearly passing out with how good real food tastes. “No. I was just curious. You were whistling.”

“So you’re saying I can’t whistle?” Bellamy teases, raising a brow. Something funny happens with her heart at his tone of voice, but she ignores it.

“No,” Clarke replies, “I just was curious. You never whistle.”

Bellamy shrugs and hops on the counter across from her to eat his pancakes. It looks like he only woke up a short time ago, because he’s still in his pajama pants and old college t-shirt, and his glasses are on. He looks… _good_.

Yikes.

That’s a thought she doesn’t want to dissect.

Clarke has always known that, objectively, Bellamy is attractive. He’s got nice hair and his body isn’t bad either and his smile could probably melt a glacier. She just hasn’t… noticed it until now.

“Maybe I’m trying something new,” Bellamy suggests, and Clarke doesn’t think anything of it. Because Bellamy’s smiling and he looks absolutely happy. So she’s not going to question it.

* * *

 

Bellamy pulls up to the house with a knot in his stomach.

It’s not like he hasn’t been here before. It just feels monumental, going on a third date with someone. He hasn’t gotten this far in literal years. But he’ll admit that it’s nice to be back out there, back to finding what he wants in a relationship.

Honestly, he doesn’t have the best track record with relationships. Roma was a friends-with-benefits relationship that she wanted to turn into more, and he didn’t. Gina actually wasn’t a bad relationship, he just wasn’t fully ready to commit to her when she wanted to get serious. So this… this is _huge_.

So he’s excited to go on this date, even if he has to meet her terrifying roommate. He hasn’t met him yet, but from what he’s heard he’s bigger than Bellamy and probably could break him in half in seconds.

But that’s not gonna stop him. Bellamy hops out of his car and quickly hurries up to the door, feeling anxious yet a little thrilled.

She opens it after one knock, and he feels a small smile slip onto his face. “Hey,” he tells her, and she brushes a kiss to his cheek.

“Hey. Come on in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everything will be explained! 
> 
> chapter 17 - it's gonna be big
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! quick update once again. i'm super super excited to finally be posting this chapter. it's been in my drafts for literal months and it's finally seeing the light of day, so that's so rewarding as a writer. this chapter is in my top 3 favorite chapters of the entire fic (we haven't seen the other two yet) and the fact that it's finally out there is incredible. anyways, hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> also, who's ready for part one of the finale? not me, that's for sure.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Bellamy turns to face his girlfriend, and then he nods. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

She glances up at the bar and frowns, before turning back to him. “You haven’t told them?”

He shakes his head at her words. “No. Only because Octavia’s been nagging me to start dating again for weeks, and I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of it just yet.”

Echo rolls her eyes a bit, but then says, “what if she doesn’t like me?”

Bellamy doesn’t exactly want to think of that option. To be honest, he hasn’t exactly thought about what any of his friends would think of her. Octavia and Clarke’s opinions matter the most to him, but he still wants the rest of his friends to like who he’s dating. “Octavia is the least of your problems,” is what he tells her, “honestly, the rest of them are going to be the ones who grill you for information.”

Echo nods and starts to open the door, “alright. Let’s do it.”

Bellamy tips his head in response and quickly hops out of his car, reaching for her hand once they’ve gotten to the door. She’s not a PDA person, but he likes the comfort of knowing that his significant other is right there and present.

Bellamy hears his friends before he sees them. It’s not often that they get together at the bar, usually it’s at someone’s place, but tonight Raven wanted to change things up and “take the scenic route”, whatever the hell that means. Jasper’s voice is loud, and Bellamy can already tell that he’s had a bit to drink. Fucking tequila.

Octavia notices him coming first and shoots him a bright smile. “Bellamy!” And then she notices that he’s dragging someone behind him. “And someone else.”

That gets his friends to turn, and suddenly it feels like there’s a spotlight on him and Echo. So, he clears his throat quickly and says, “guys, this is my girlfriend, Echo.”

Octavia’s eyes are as wide as saucers and Raven’s jaw is slack and Jasper, oh Jasper, looks like someone just told him Christmas was cancelled. Bellamy sees Monty jab Jasper in the side, and he quickly recovers before nearly shouting at Bellamy. “Bellamy! My man! That’s—that’s great man! Wow! I had—I had no idea, isn’t it great, Monty?” Jasper says, desperately looking at Monty for backup. Jasper’s smile is a bit wild and a bit too wide and Bellamy looks on in horror.

“Uh, yeah, it is,” Monty replies, looking at Jasper like he’s a lunatic. “That really is great, Bellamy. Nice to meet you, Echo.” The nice-to-meet-yous follow quickly, and Bellamy is roughly pulled aside by his sister.

“Girlfriend? You have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell me?”

“It was out of spite,” he admits, and Octavia’s eyes narrow.

“Did anyone know?”

Bellamy shakes his head, and watches as Miller, thank you Miller, tries to start up a conversation with Echo. “Nope. Not until about ten seconds ago.”

His sister’s brows nearly go off of her head. “Not even Clarke?”

“Not even Clarke,” Bellamy confirms, and Octavia looks like she’s either going to throw up or scream. “What’s that face for?”

She swallows quickly and glances back at their friends. Bellamy finds Raven still staring between Bellamy and Echo in shock. “I just assumed you would’ve told her.”

He shrugs a bit, “I wanted to keep it to myself for a while. No shame in that. Everyone else has hid something like this from the group, I figured it was my turn. And you can’t get mad at me because you hid Lincoln from me for like, three months.”

“Hey! It was two…” Octavia says, but she trails off a bit, looking back at his girlfriend. When she turns, her eyes are narrowed again. “How’d you meet her?”

“A friend of a friend,” Bellamy explains. Octavia doesn’t look satisfied with that answer, so Bellamy tries to elaborate the best he can. “A coworker of mine had a friend who lived down the street. She just thought that we’d be compatible, and so far it’s worked.”

“Uh huh,” his sister hums, but she still seems very, very suspicious. “Alright. Well. I’m gonna go talk to her.”

“Be nice,” Bellamy warns, but Octavia only hums again.

He lets out a breath and steps closer, to find Raven still standing in place like she’s been frozen. “Shut your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” he teases, and Raven snaps her mouth shut before looking at him with a look he can’t place.

“Bellamy Blake you had a girlfriend and you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t tell anyone,” he reiterates tiredly, and now Raven’s eyes narrow. “Not even Clarke,” he says, before Raven can say it.

“Are you going to tell her?”

Bellamy scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Of course I’m going to tell her. She’s my best friend, I can’t just keep this from her. It’s just unfortunate that she had to work when I told the rest of you.” Clarke’s been working so much lately, it’s gotten to the point where he sees her for less time than he did before they were friends. Of course, he loves the time he gets to spend with her, because she is his best friend, but it’s just odd. “I’ll tell her on Friday when she gets home from work.”

Raven nods a bit, still looking alarmed but not near as alarmed as she did when he first introduced Echo. “Okay. I’m gonna—I guess I’ll go socialize.”

“You do that,” Bellamy replies, still a bit baffled at the reaction of his friends. Most of them just looked shocked, Monty looked pleased, and Jasper… that’s one he’s never gonna be able to decipher. Bellamy doesn’t think he wants to try to figure out what Jasper is feeling, that man is a whole different story of emotions.

He grabs a couple beers from the bartender before making his way back to Echo, taking a seat next to her. She tips her head in thanks when he hands him a beer, and he pokes at her side in response. He’s figured out that they’re decent at nonverbal communication, so he raises his brows at her in question of how she’s doing. She gives him a nod back, and a small smile before turning back to whatever conversation she was having with Miller and Monty.

Bellamy glances around to find his sister and Raven speaking rapidly to each other in the corner, but he’s too far away to hear what they’re saying. He can’t read lips, either, but he’s pretty certain the words _what the fuck_ are coming out of his sister’s mouth very frequently. He knows she’ll probably be upset that he didn’t tell her, but honestly, he doesn’t regret it. It gave him time to get settled into the relationship and be happy with Echo before involving everyone else. So far so good. 

* * *

 

Clarke has been having a bad day. She’s been on shift for three days straight, has had blood all over her for much of those three days, and wants nothing more than to eat whatever leftovers are in the fridge and sleep for a month.

But she hears voices on the other side of the door as she digs for her keys. She hears one she doesn’t recognize, and then Bellamy’s which makes her smile. He always knows how to cheer her up after a long shift.

When she opens the door though, she’s met with a sight she’s not expecting. She can see a woman sitting on one of their bar stools. A very pretty, slender brunette. Clarke swallows and takes off her shoes slowly, leaving them outside of the doors range.

“Clarke?” Bellamy’s voice jogs her from her thoughts and she steps forward, forcing a grin and shouldering her bag. “Hey. How was work?” Bellamy gives her a smile and she tries to ignore the butterflies as well as the bad feelings in the pit of her stomach.

She rolls her eyes. “You know. Three days is a long time.” He snorts a bit but she can’t make herself move from her spot any more. Then she turns to the women in their kitchen. “Hi.”

The woman turns and then forces a smile. “Hi. You must be Clarke.”

Clarke nods. “I am.” She doesn’t want to ask who she is. It seems as though she should know who she is, but she doesn’t. Clarke wracks her brains trying to figure out who this woman is and why she’s in their kitchen.

“Clarke, this is Echo.”

“Ah.” Clarke responds, still very suspicious.

“She’s been really busy the last few weeks,” Bellamy says, pushing a glass of water to Echo, “and hasn’t really been home. But,” Bellamy almost looks embarrassed. “Echo is my girlfriend.”

In an instant, it’s like all of the air has been knocked from her lungs. Clarke struggles to keep her face passive as she processes what just came out of his mouth. Echo. Bellamy. Girlfriend. Oh, god.

Clarke forces a smile. “That’s great,” she says, finally stepping forward and praying that her legs can hold her up. The word girlfriend echoes in her head, bouncing around on the walls of her skull. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Echo tells her and Clarke forces a laugh, trying to hold back whatever rush of feelings consume her.

“Hopefully good things,” she mutters, actively avoiding looking at Bellamy. Echo says something else but she can’t hear it, she doesn’t want to hear it because Clarke doesn’t think she can stay standing any longer. Feelings that she didn’t know she would feel course through her and she doesn’t know how she feels about it.

She doesn’t hear Bellamy addressing her for a couple moments. “Clarke?” His voice finally breaks through the cloud of confusion and she finally looks at him. “You okay?”

Clarke nods slowly. “I’m fine. Just haven’t slept in three days. I’m gonna—” She gestures back to her room and he nods, and she nearly runs back to her room. Clarke shuts the door slowly and then slides to the ground, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes.

There is literally no reason for her to feel the way that she’s feeling. She has no claim on him, no reason to be upset about the fact that he has a girlfriend. But yet, when she hears his laugh come from the kitchen, the sound sends a sword through her side.

Clarke manages to drag herself into the shower and stands there for what feels like hours. The water pounds on her and she slinks to the tile, pressing her hands into her eyes. Stupid, stupid, stupid! There’s no reason for her to be upset! A bitch is shook. A bitch being Clarke Griffin.

She scrubs her skin until it’s raw and pink and she still doesn’t feel any better. When she finally turns off the shower, the water has gone cold. She’s shivering and everything feels so discombobulated. It’s like the world is sliding out from beneath her, and she’s left on shaky stilts.

She doesn’t want to stay here. She can’t. She needs to get out and pretend that this didn’t happen. Clarke blinks to clear her vision, because for fucks sake, she was tearing up. She reaches into her drawers to find something to put on and doesn’t even care when she’s grabbed another pair of scrubs. She needs to get out of here. She can’t stay here any longer.

Clarke wants Raven. Raven will understand. Raven will help _her_ understand. She manages to send a text saying that she’s on the way, and doesn’t wait for a response. She steels herself, trying to prepare for what she might face out there. She doesn’t even know what she wants to face out there. Everything is so fucking confusing.

Once back out in the living room, she makes quick work of putting on her shoes, avidly avoiding Bellamy’s eye. When she grabs her keys though, he stops her. “Hey,” he says, stepping forward to take them from her and he succeeds, “where do you think you’re going? You’re too tired to drive.”

“I got called back in. I have to go,” Clarke lies quickly, reaching for her keys again. He raises them up higher and she’s not in the mood. He’s teasing her and it’s only breaking her heart more.

“You had a three-day shift,” Bellamy protests, but she pulls her keys from his grip.

“I have to go back to work. I will be back tomorrow.” Clarke steps back from him and opens the door, turning back to Echo. If nothing else, she’s polite. “It was nice to meet you, Echo!.”

It feels like her heart is being squashed and her stomach is in knots and she _doesn’t know why_ everything hurts this bad. More tears burn in her vision as she drives to her friends’ and she doesn’t know why. There’s no reason for her to feel this upset. Bellamy has a girlfriend. The word almost sends her into a tailspin and she doesn’t know why.

Her hands are shaky and her legs are wobbly and she doesn’t know if she’s ever felt this type of feeling before. It doesn’t make sense.

If Raven and Octavia are alarmed by her appearance, they don’t mention it. But she doesn’t miss the look that the pair share. “Everything okay?” Raven finally asks cautiously, and Clarke drops her bag heavily.

“I need alcohol,” is the only thing she can say.

The two share another look. “Clarke—”

“Just—" Clarke blinks quickly to clear her vision. “I just need to sit. And drink. Please,” Clarke finally begs, and that gets the two of them moving.

Raven follows her slowly into the living room, and sits on one side. Octavia takes the other and sets the glasses and the wine on the coffee table. She pours Clarke a hearty glass and hands it to her. “I don’t really know why we’re drinking, but I’m always down for drinking, so—” she clinks her glass against Clarke’s, but she can’t hear it over the rush in her ears.

Bellamy has a girlfriend. Not just a friend that’s a girl, no, he has a girlfriend, and Clarke feels like she’s been shot. Because a month ago she was denying the fact that she wanted to sleep with him, and just two weeks ago she was denying her feelings to her friends. Hell, even a few nights ago she was denying everything. Why does that denial feel so much worse now?

Neither of her friends say anything as Clarke works her way through her first glass. She doesn’t want to talk about it yet. She doesn’t know if she even wants to think about it, but the only thing she can think of is Bellamy smiling at Echo. And damn, that fucking hurts.

“Um,” Raven finally says into the silence, “I’m gonna put on _Mamma Mia_.” All three of them know that it’s one of Clarke’s favorite movies. In that moment, Clarke is infinitely grateful for her friends. Because even if she doesn’t have to say why she looks like she’s just been drowned in her own sorrow, they’ll still do what they can to make her feel better. She’s also thankful for the fact that they’re not making her say anything, because Clarke doesn’t know what she would even want to say.

It’s strangely quiet the first half of the movie. Usually by the time they get to Dancing Queen the three of them are up and singing, but today? Today they’re sitting on the couch in a quiet, miserable silence. Clarke’s phone buzzes and she sees that it’s from Bellamy, and that feels like a slap in the face.

**Bellamy** : How do you get called in after a 3 day shift?

Clarke swallows thickly before tapping out a reply.

**Clarke** : nurses don’t get breaks

And then she turns her phone off before swiftly slamming it onto the coffee table. Raven and Octavia share another look, but still, they don’t say anything.

By the time they get to Sophie’s bachelorette party, Clarke doesn’t feel like she can hold anything in anymore. The words have been threatening to spill out for a while now, and the wine certainly isn’t helping. Sophie’s just passed out when Clarke finally gets the courage to speak. “I met Bellamy’s girlfriend today.” Octavia’s head snaps to face her, but Clarke can’t look. She lets out a shaky, terrifying breath. “And it feels like I’ve been slapped. And I don’t know why.”

Raven is finally the one to speak up after several seconds of tense silence. “Oh, Clarke.” She tries to swallow down the tears because she feels so fucking stupid for crying, but they find their way out anyways. She doesn’t have a goddamn clue what’s going on.

She lets out a quiet cry and her friends wrap her in a hug, which almost makes her want to cry even more. But she doesn’t, and they sit in miserable silence as Mamma Mia continues on the screen.

She shouldn’t even be this upset. Bellamy looked happy, he really did. But that sends her heart into a meat grinder because he’s dating someone else. She doesn’t want to say that she’s been repressing her feelings, but…

“I’m gonna grab some ice cream,” Octavia finally says, getting up quickly and hurrying to the kitchen. Clarke drops her head to the back of the couch and swallows the lump in her throat. Raven looks like she wants to say something, but takes one look at Clarke faraway look and decides against it.

They sit in silence and watch the rest of the movie. Her friends must know it’s bad when Clarke doesn’t even crack a smile at the credit scene. She just eats her ice cream and mopes for no goddamn reason except for the fact that her best friend is happy. That just makes her feel fucking worse.

The movie’s been over for about twenty minutes when Octavia finally speaks up again.

“Where’d you tell him you went?”

Clarke shrugs and takes another bite of ice cream. “Told him I got called back into work.” Raven nods and takes a scoop out of the tub on the coffee table. “I just didn’t want to be there. I didn’t even want to look at him, guys.”

Octavia sighs and glances at Raven who only shrugs, “I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s not really anything to say,” Clarke mumbles, “he has a girlfriend and he’s happy and I’m not happy about it.”

Both of her friends open their mouths, but then close them when Clarke only shakes her head. She doesn’t want to think about the implications of her words. Because deep down she thinks that she knows what it means. But god forbid she believes it.

The three are quiet on the couch and Clarke tries to ignore the aching in her stomach. She hadn’t even noticed that he had come in late the last couple of Friday nights. She had been working so many extra hours and shifts that she didn’t even think to ask anyone what was going on. He had been _whistling_. Clarke feels so, so stupid. There had been signs all around her she just hadn’t picked them up.

She doesn’t even notice that she’s actually crying until her friends snake their arms around her shoulders and hold her tightly. Her body trembles with sadness and she feels beyond pathetic. She’s been beat up like this after actual breakups, not seeing her best friend with a girlfriend.

“I feel so stupid.” She finally says, dropping her head into her hands. “And I think I know why I feel stupid I just don’t want to admit to it.”

“You didn’t know.” Raven suggests, handing Clarke a tissue.

“I feel like I should’ve! I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend until an hour ago and all of the sudden it’s like the world is in flames around me! I feel so fucking stupid!”

Raven makes a face. “You shouldn’t feel stupid, Clarke. It happens to the best of us.” Clarke lets out a dry, haunting laugh. “I know it sucks. We didn’t know till two days ago. You were at work when he told us.”

Octavia still looks at her in disbelief. “I really thought…” Clarke swallows tightly.

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Clarke orders, and then shakes her head. “Sorry. I just—”

“It’s okay,” Octavia tells her quietly, but Clarke can’t help thinking that none of this is okay. None of what she’s feeling right now is okay.

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus,” Clarke concludes. “And then the bus driver decided I wasn’t dead enough, so he backed up and hit me again.” Raven lets out a strangled laugh and Clarke desperately tries to think about anything but the man she lives with. “Can I stay here tonight?”

Her two friends roll their eyes. “No, we were going to kick you to the street as soon as it turned midnight, of course you can stay here.”

Clarke nods and slumps back on the couch. “Thank you.” She’s beyond grateful for them, even if she hasn’t truly spoken the reason that she’s upset. They know. She just wonders how she didn’t know.

“What do we say we order some pizza, drink some wine, and watch rom coms but stop them when the couple gets in the fight?” Raven suggests, already standing to get the menu and Clarke chokes out a little laugh.

“As long as we watch _High School Musical 2_ and stop it after they break up, too,” Clarke manages, looking up from her hands. Raven snorts a bit and nods. They only tolerate that movie because they know it’s Clarke’s guilty pleasure. Clarke suspects that they secretly enjoy the movie too, but they’d never admit to it. Maybe tonight she can use her sadness to get them to admit it.

“Sounds like a plan. You wanna call Harper and Emori?” Clarke nods slowly, deciding that she wants her friends’ support. Octavia calls them and say it’s an emergency, and they’re at the apartment in less than twenty minutes. They’re loaded down with ice cream and some more wine and Clarke wants to cry because her friends are so good. She doesn’t even have to say that something’s seriously wrong, because they already know.

Her chest is tight and her head hurts and nothing makes sense. She doesn’t know when it got this bad, she doesn’t know how she didn’t know.  

Things are quiet for a while. Her friends don’t ask her to talk, but by the looks that are being shot around the room, everyone figures out what’s going on. Except Clarke. She doesn’t want to admit why she feels this way. Because by admitting it, then she has to… she has to accept it. And after seeing Echo, that’s not something that she wants to do.

There’s a lump in her throat when Clarke finally finds her voice again, “I think I understand why I’m upset,” she starts, and her friends look at her with so much sorrow in their eyes. “I just—I just don’t wanna say it.”

“You don’t have to,” Raven assures her gently, and Clarke swallows thickly.

“Will it help if I say it?” She asks miserably, and Raven doesn’t have an answer to that on the spot.

Harper’s the one who speaks up first. “Sometimes saying it out loud is better than bottling it up,” she tells her, and Clarke looks down at her hands and sucks in a tight breath.

Even if she does… feel things for Bellamy, there’s still no logical reason for her to be this upset. Unless it’s been brewing for a while and— _nope_. Clarke doesn’t want to even consider that option. She chews on her lip for a moment before exhaling heavily. “I guess—” she swallows again. “I guess I do have feelings for Bellamy.”

For a split second, it feels good to have it hanging in the air. And then it feels like a train has hit her, and fuck, she has feelings for Bellamy. Her chest hurts and her heart feels like it’s been stomped on and she wants this to stop. “There’s no,” she blinks and stares up at the ceiling to stop herself from tearing up. “There’s no reason for me to be this upset! These are new feelings!”

“New, strong feelings,” Octavia says quietly, putting an arm around her shoulders soothingly. “It’s okay to have feelings, Clarke. I know you like to pretend that you don’t,” Clarke lets out a humorless laugh, “but it happens sometimes. You can’t stop them from happening.”

Clarke presses the heels of her hands into her eyes and takes another shuddering breath. “I just don’t know why they had to happen _now_. When he literally has his girlfriend standing in the kitchen. I just don’t understand.”

And she gives up, and lets the wave of sadness rush over her, because god, this is so unfortunate. She didn’t think she’d ever have to face this. And here she is, having to face it head-on. Feelings suck. 

* * *

 

When Clarke wakes the next morning, everything seems normal for a moment. Until she remembers that she’s in Raven’s bed and that Bellamy has a girlfriend. She kinda feels numb, but at least she’s not silently crying anymore.

She pulls one of Raven’s blankets around her shoulders and pads into the kitchen, finding all of her friends already up. Raven hands her a cup of coffee and she nods gratefully and sits down at the table. “How do you feel?”

Clarke sips at her coffee and shrugs. “As good as you can imagine,” Clarke tells them, and that’s all she has to say. Raven nods and the five girls sit in silence for a very long time, until Harper sighs.

“When are you going to go back?

She shrugs. “I dunno. I know I have to but,” Clarke trails off and sighs, glancing at the clock. “I don’t think he’s home right now. He had to go into school today to get some stuff done. I’ll just disappear into my room for the rest of my life.” Emori and Raven exchange a glance, and the former of the two finally speaks up.

“You don’t have to go back yet, you know. You can just crash at our place for a couple of days until you’ve got everything sorted,” Emori suggests, and Clarke feels a wave of gratitude so strong wash over her that she thinks she might cry again.

Clarke reaches across the table and gives Emori’s hand a squeeze. “I appreciate it a lot. But I can’t just avoid this forever. I have to face it and I have to get through it. Honestly, forgetting that the last twenty-four hours happened would be _ideal_ , but obviously that isn’t an option.”

Raven puzzles over that for a moment before she opens her mouth. “Maybe I can build one of those memory taker away things. That’s my new project. I feel like we could all use that,” she finishes, and Clarke forces a grin.

“If only it was that simple.”

So, two hours later when they’re all certain that Bellamy isn’t home, Clarke is pulling up to her apartment. She doesn’t exactly know how she’s supposed to react to everything. She still feels pretty numb and very confused, but she wants her bed and she wants to sleep. Pushing herself out of the car, she wonders once again how she could’ve missed the signs. Idiot.

Once inside, Clarke has to steady herself a bit because it feels like she’s seeing everything in a new light that she doesn’t understand.

She can’t believe that she let it get to this point.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as john murphy would say - this is my masterpiece
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter has chewed me up and spit me out about three times. i've rewritten it and scrapped it three times and i've hated it more each time, so i went back to my original version and just dealt what what i had originally. so, if this sucks, i'm sorry lol. the first part of the finale threw me into a tailspin of writers block and i really struggled, but it's done! hopefully y'all enjoy!
> 
> also, the response to last chapter? i was overwhelmed, guys! i'm so glad that you all liked the chapter and i just wanted to show my appreciation by saying how much i love each of y'all so much!!

It’s Sunday morning when she sees Bellamy for the first time. She had heard him come in at some point on Saturday afternoon, but she didn’t dare leave her room. He knocked on her door a couple times as the day went on, but she didn’t move and pretended that she was sleeping. She does that after those long shifts, and he thinks that she was working, so she at least has an alibi.

Clarke knows she has to get up at some point. But after a night of restless sleep and frustrating tears, she doesn’t know if she can bring herself to move. She has to get up. He’ll eventually worry if she’s not up.

She examines herself in the mirror. Her red eyes, chapped cheeks from her tears. Her nose is red from wiping it so often and she just looks so tired. Might as well delay this further. Clarke hops into the shower and tries to wash away the last two days from her skin, but it’s no use. Puffy eyes don’t just go away when you’ve been crying off and on for hours on end. She scrubs her face to no avail, but then finally scowls at herself in the mirror and gets out and prepares for the next few minutes.

She opens the door and steels herself for what she’s about to see. She hears the TV as she walks through the hallway to the kitchen, quickly pouring herself a cup of coffee and ignoring the man in the living room. Clarke swallows when she hears the TV pause.

“Clarke?” God, even hearing his voice sends a knife through her. She’d call herself pathetic but she bets there’s a word even worse than pathetic. “You finally up?”

“Yeah,” she says, opening the fridge to avoid looking at him. “Four days is a long shift.”

She hears his footsteps enter the kitchen and she swallows again. “It’s fucking ridiculous, that’s what it is. They shouldn’t have called you. You could barely stand up.” That was for another reason, she thinks bitterly, before she finally turns to him, which is another blow to the stomach.

He looks like same old Bellamy. In an old college t-shirt and faded sweatpants, glasses perched on the edge of his nose, hair askew. He looks the same and yet she’s seeing him in so many different ways.

“Hey,” he starts, “you okay?” Her eyes are still red and puffy, and Clarke clenches her jaw and forces back her thoughts.

“Fine,” she responds, twisting around him to get the creamer.

Bellamy huffs. “You’re obviously not fine.”

“I’m fine, Bellamy.”

“No you’re not,” he responds, standing in front of her with his arms crossed.

Clarke takes a sharp breath. “I lost a patient,” she lies quickly, hoping he believes it, “she was ten.”

His face falls and she knows it’s done the trick. Clarke gets like this when they lose a patient, young or old. It’s just usually harder when it’s a child. She hates the fact that she has to lie about it, but what other choice does she have? “I’m sorry, Clarke.” Bellamy tells her gently and she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from crying again.

“It happens,” she manages, “it’s not my fault, but it happens.” Bellamy looks like he’s going to argue but then he takes a breath, his eyes searching her for something she doesn’t want to give up.

“I’m still sorry, though. I know how hard this is on you.” Clarke nods, turning back to get her coffee. Does he really know how hard it is for her, does he really? “Clarke.” He brushes his hand against her arm as if to get her to look at him, but she pulls away like she’s been burned. It feels like she’s on fire. He looks a little shocked and there’s thinly masked hurt plastered across his face, but he doesn’t say anything about it.

“What?” She spits, and then she takes a breath. “Sorry.”

Bellamy shrugs, leaning against the counter. “It’s okay. I know it’s hard. Do you want to talk about it?” She almost laughs. Talking about her current problem about Bellamy with Bellamy is an easy way to make herself look stupid. But she shakes her head. “Clarke, you’re obviously upset about this.”

“I’m fine,” she mutters, clenching her jaw and moving around him. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“You just slept for over sixteen hours, I know you’re not tired.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Clarke grits out, “I don’t. Not this time.”

Bellamy nods. “And that’s fine. You can’t isolate yourself, though. Go sit down and we can find something to watch.”

And then she wants to die because the last thing she wants to do is sit on a couch with Bellamy and act like she’s not dying inside. But she does it anyway because she’s a fool. A _fool_.

* * *

 

She finally picks up her phone on the third ring and Bellamy can already tell that she sounds annoyed. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Bellamy says as he lounges on Echo’s couch. Her legs are in his lap and he runs his hands up them soothingly. “Just curious, what are you doing tonight? Echo and I were gonna go to dinner with her roommate, and we thought to ask you if you wanted to come.”

Echo scrolls through Netflix and Bellamy frowns at her selection and she scowls a bit at him. He only smirks when he squeezes her leg and she moves on from whatever show she picked. Clarke fumbles over her words, “oh, uh, I don’t think I can? I was gonna do something with Octavia tonight and—”

“Octavia’s going with Lincoln to his cousin’s birthday party. She didn’t tell you?” Bellamy asks, trying to figure out if Octavia mentioned that to Clarke.

“Apparently not,” Clarke finally says, and it’s obvious she’s gritting her teeth. “I dunno, Bellamy, work’s been a lot lately and I don’t wanna tire myself out.”

He can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. “You have never used work as an excuse to get out of something before. And yes, before you deny it, I know that’s what you’re trying to do.” The other line goes quiet for a moment as Bellamy nods at the movie that Echo picked. “Look—”

“I just,” Clarke says at the same time, and Bellamy quiets. “You first.”

“I want you and Echo to be friends. You’re my best friend, and I want you to know her. I realize that I probably shouldn’t have introduced her to you after you got off of a three-day shift,” Clarke makes a noise on the other line, one that he can’t decipher, “and I want to try again. If you’re willing.”

Clarke is very quiet on the other line for what feels like hours and Bellamy sighs a bit. “Clarke,” he drags out her name and she huffs. “Come on, are you gonna make me beg?” She still doesn’t say anything and Bellamy can practically hear the gears turning in her head. “Please?”

She lets out another long breath before finally agreeing, “fine. I’ll go.”

Bellamy grins and drops his head onto the back of the couch. “Sweet. I’ll text you what I know.” Clarke makes a noise on the other line that he takes as a goodbye, and Bellamy settles into his seat for whatever movie Echo picked.

“Is she coming?”

Bellamy nods, resting his hands on her ankles. “Yeah. She sounded really tired, but she said she’d go.”

His girlfriend nods, and she keeps her eyes intently on the screen when she speaks up again. “You two seem close.”

“She’s my best friend,” Bellamy tells her honestly. “I love Murphy and Monty, but with Clarke it’s weird.”

“Weird?”

“Not weird,” he backtracks, “just different. We hated each other a few months ago, and now she’s my best friend. That’s what’s different about it.”

Echo nods, but she still stares at the screen. He recognizes what expression is on her face and he frowns. “What’s that look for?”

“What look? I don’t have a look.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes and gently pushes her legs off of his lap to pull her towards him. “You have the look that you get when you’re thinking about something you don’t like. Like Roan’s cooking, or your job, or—”

“Okay, I get it, I don’t like a lot of things,” she snaps and Bellamy raises his hands slightly in defense.

“I didn’t say that,” he tells her slowly, “I just want to know what you’re thinking, Echo. This isn’t going to work if you don’t tell me what’s bugging you.” And really, he does want it to work. But he can’t make it work if she doesn’t give the same amount of effort, or communicate with him. Even in their short relationship, verbal communication is becoming an issue quickly.

Echo is quiet for a moment, her arms crossed and her face passive. Then, she asks, “has anything ever happened between you and Clarke?”

At first, Bellamy wants to shake his head. Because technically, nothing ever did happen between them. Nothing physical, and honestly, nothing emotional. Yeah, he may have had fleeting feelings for her, but they went away quickly. But with the way Echo is staring at the television with so much fire it’s like it might burst into flames, he knows he has to tell her the truth.

“Nothing ever happened,” he starts slowly, and her arms cross tighter across her chest. “But, there was a time when I thought that I had feelings for her. Obviously, I don’t anymore because I’m dating you, but it’s better to be truthful with you.”

“How long ago?”

Bellamy furrows his brow and struggles to remember, before quickly saying, “like, November or something? December? I don’t remember.”

Echo finally turns to face him and he lets out a sigh when he realizes that her mask is back on. It’s the face she uses when she doesn’t want him to know how she’s feeling. “And you don’t now?”

Bellamy squeezes her waist and presses a kiss to her cheek. “Would I be sitting here if I did? Echo, I’m with you. I like you, and I like spending time with you. I want to continue spending time with you. So no, I don’t have any feelings for Clarke. You still have that look on your face, but I want to know if you trust me. Because this,” he says, gesturing between the two of them, “cannot be an honest relationship when you don’t trust me when I’m telling the truth.”

She lets out a breath of air through her teeth and Bellamy waits patiently for her to respond to his words. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” she starts, and Bellamy raises a brow. “Because I do. It’s just a little intimidating that you’re as close to her as you are.”

Bellamy nods, because he does get it. But Clarke is only his best friend, and nothing more. He’s just gonna have to figure out how to make that clear.

* * *

 

Her fingers tap on the steering wheel as she waits outside of the restaurant. Clarke chews on her lip and all she can think is that she doesn’t want to do this. She wanted to avoid all interaction with Bellamy and Echo, and certainly did not want to meet Echo’s roommate. But she already agreed and she can’t leave now.

So she takes a deep breath and tries not to think about how much this is going to hurt. Pushing open her door, Clarke glances around the parking lot for Bellamy’s car and grimaces when she finds it. That means he’s here, and so is Echo.

The ache in her chest hasn’t gone away in the two weeks that she’s known about Echo. It’s like she’s constantly being put through a war and she’s the only one who’s taking any of the fire. She knows that it probably shouldn’t be this bad, but Clarke keeps coming back to Octavia’s words. New, _strong_ feelings. Oh, these are so strong she doesn’t know how she missed them in the first place.

Clarke wants them to go away but it’s probably not going to be that easy when the feelings are practically eating her from the inside out. She still just feels so stupid, and so guilty. Because he’s obviously happy, and she’s moping about the fact that he’s happy with another woman.

It’s not like she’s going to do anything to jeopardize his happiness, she’s not evil. In fact, she’s gonna do everything in her power to like Echo and accept that she’s in his life. It’s probably gonna be difficult, because yeah, Clarke’s feeling some non-platonic things for Bellamy, but she cares about him too much to dislike his girlfriend for that reason.

She pushes open the door to the restaurant and immediately zeroes in on the head of unruly curly hair sitting near the back of the restaurant. For a moment, her heart stutters. Then she sees Echo and it’s like her heart has stopped. But Clarke forces a smile and makes her way to the back of the restaurant.

Bellamy gives her a bright smile and she forces one back, taking her seat across from him and next to Echo’s roommate. “Uh, Clarke, this is Roan, Echo’s roommate,” Clarke manages a smile at him, but Roan only tips his head in acknowledgement, “and you know Echo.”

“Mhmm,” Clarke hums, glancing towards Echo. “Good to see you again.”

And Echo repeats Roan’s gesture, merely tipping her head back. Clarke swallows thickly. Yep, this is gonna go great.

For his part, Bellamy does a great job of getting the conversation going. He gets Roan talking about his job at a law firm downtown, and Clarke in turn is interested because Roan’s firm has done a few jobs with Kane’s position in politics. Roan’s kind of a dick, but Clarke respects him for what he does. Being a lawyer is hard fucking work.

Clarke forces herself to get to know Echo. “So, Echo,” she starts, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach, “what do you do?”

“I’m a geoscientist,” Echo tells her, and Clarke desperately tries to figure out what that is.

“Oh! That’s great and—”

“I hate it.”

Clarke flounders and actually feels her tongue get caught in her throat, because fuck, how is she supposed to work with that. “Oh, well, that’s—that’s okay! Um, is there anything that you’d rather be doing?”

“Echo doesn’t like to do anything,” Roan pipes up, and if looks could kill, Roan would be dead by Echo’s gaze. “What! You know I’m right. You hate your job.”

The other woman rolls her eyes and Clarke shovels spaghetti into her mouth to avoid being addressed. “Yes, I hate my job, but that doesn’t mean I hate everything. I certainly don’t hate Bellamy,” and Clarke chokes, pounding on her sternum to dislodge whatever’s stuck in her throat.

“Jesus, Clarke, you okay?” Bellamy asks, and Clarke nods a bit, the coughing still continuing. Her eyes are watery and she’s not sure if it’s because she’s choking or Echo’s words.

“Fine,” she manages, and Roan nudges her water glass towards her. Clarke lets out a huff of air and forces herself to drink some water. She’s still coughing a bit when she manages to push out another question directed at Echo. “So,” she coughs, “if you hate what you do, what would you rather be doing?”

Echo only shrugs, her eyes narrowing at Clarke, and Clarke wants to cower. “I’m not sure. My degree is in environmental science, but I hate it.”

“Oh. Why’d you pick it?” Roan lets out an exaggerated sigh next to her and Clarke feels her face burn hot with embarrassment. Was that a subject she wasn’t supposed to approach?

“I picked it, because I ran out of time when I was in college, and they made me pick a major. If I could do anything else it’d be business, that way I could be in charge,” Echo says confidently, and Bellamy snorts at her words.

“Like you aren’t already in charge with everything you do,” he tells her, and Echo’s smile softens and yeah, Clarke really wants to die now. That look only makes the churning in her stomach worse. Echo turns back to her with a critical eye and Clarke forces a smile that probably looks much too fake. “So, you’re a nurse?”

Clarke nods slowly, finally being able to actually smile, because she loves her job. “Yeah, I am. I’m over at Arkadia.”

“What exactly do RN’s do?”

Clarke pauses at that, because how does she not know what a nurse does? Has she been in a doctor’s office or a hospital ever? But she recovers quickly and dives in to what she does. She explains that she does a lot of recovery for patients who had just undergone major surgeries, and spends a lot of time with the patients family. Roan listens intently too, which is kind of surprising but considering Clarke’s pretty sure she lost Echo when she started talking about how she works cardio a lot, she’ll take it.

“You should see her artwork, too,” Bellamy adds, when Clarke’s finished and god, she tries to stop herself from flushing, but she’s not sure it works. “If you weren’t a nurse you could’ve made some good money with your paintings.”

“You paint?” Roan asks, and Clarke nods.

“And draw. Not as much as I used to, but sometimes, yeah.”

“Artists don’t make a lot of money though, even if it’s good,” Echo butts in, and Clarke feels her heart drop, yet again. The look that Echo’s giving Clarke is one of judgement and she wants to curl in a ball and disappear. Usually, she’s really good at handling judgement, she gets it on a daily basis. But _this_ judgement? This judgement sucks.

“I thought about being an art teacher for a little bit,” Clarke says, instead of fighting what Echo had to say. “But I realized that I really wouldn’t have made any money, and I probably would’ve struggled with it. So yeah, you do have a point. It wasn't logical for me.”

“You would’ve been a damn good art teacher, though,” Bellamy mutters and Clarke manages a weak smile. “Seriously, Echo, you’d love what she makes. She does a lot of outdoor work, so you'd love it,” Echo nods, but she doesn’t seem convinced. Clarke feels the knot in her stomach get worse. Bellamy slides his hand across the back of Echo’s chair and rubs his thumb on his girlfriend’s shoulder and yep, that about does it.

Clarke excuses herself from the table and nearly sprints back to the bathroom. Because fuck, this is too much. She can’t do this. She gets herself into a stall and leans back against it before pressing her hands into her eyes.

She’s happy that he’s happy. Honestly. But fuck, now that she’s literally sitting at a table with him and his girlfriend, it really fucking sucks. Not to mention that Roan keeps sending her looks over the table that either mean he’s trying to fuck her, or he can see right through her. She doesn’t know which would be worse.

Clarke wants to leave. She wants to call some fake emergency and then go hide in Raven’s apartment for the rest of the night so she can avoid having to pretend that she’s not dying inside. But Clarke is not a quitter, no matter how bad something hurts. She’s at least going to call Raven and complain about it for a second.

Raven picks up on the second ring, and Clarke lets out a loud groan when Raven asks her what’s up. “So I take it it’s not going well?”

“Raven, this _sucks_. I’m miserable. I just can’t stop thinking.”

There’s a voice muffled on Raven’s end that she doesn’t recognize, and Clarke furrows her brow. Raven speaks up quickly, “can’t stop thinking about what?”

“How much this sucks.”

Raven lets out a sigh. “Is this a level one or a level ten emergency? Put me on speaker, I can even start crying.”

Clarke cracks a smile at her friend’s devotion. “I would say it’s about an eight, but you don’t have to do that. I’m not just going to leave because I can’t handle this. The quicker I get over it the quicker it gets easier. So, logically, if I just immerse myself in the thing that hurts, it’ll feel better quicker.”

“I dunno if that’s sound logic, babe,” Raven replies, but it sounds like she’s thinking on it anyways. “Just—just try to get through the night, and we can figure out a game plan tomorrow. I thought you said that you just wanted to avoid it completely?” Raven asks, and Clarke only grumbles back, because yeah, she did say that earlier. More importantly she just wants her feelings to go away. The other voice is louder this time, and now Clarke raises a brow because it _does_ sound familiar.

“Do you have someone over?”

“No,” Raven says, much too quickly.

“Oh my god, is it the pilot? Tell him that you wanna go skydiving strapped to his—”

Her friend lets out an exasperated sigh. “Clarke. Deal with the matter at hand right now.” Clarke’s mood instantly drops when she remembers where she is. “Get through the night, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know about what’s going on right now.”

“Ah, so it is the pilot.”

“Shut up,” Raven grumbles, before sighing again. “Good luck. If you need to scream after it’s all over you know I’m here.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”

Clarke hangs up quickly and lets out another breath before exiting the stall. She stares in the mirror and frowns at her expression, before smiling at herself. The smile looks forced, and it drops quickly. She scowls and lets out another tight breath before exiting the bathroom to—run smack into Roan. Clarke nearly groans, but then forces a smile.

Roan raises his brows at her, “you look like you’re having fun.”

“Loads,” Clarke manages, and now his eyes narrow.

“If you keep saying that maybe you’ll believe it,” Roan tells her, and Clarke’s scowl deepens. She met him thirty minutes ago and he’s acting like he knows her. Roan doesn’t know her, and he doesn’t know anything about her, and— “so, how long have you been into Lover Boy over there?”

Clarke splutters, her cheeks instantly going hot. “I’m not—I would never—I’m n-not— _Roan_.” He only glances back at the couple still at the table, but Clarke refuses to look too. “I’m not.”

“And I’m not fucking stupid, Clarke. This dinner is the epitome of pain for you, isn’t it?”

“It’s fun,” Clarke grits out, chewing on the inside of her cheek until she draws blood. “I’m having so much fun. Can’t you see?”

“If you clench your jaw any harder your teeth are going to break,” is all that Roan says and Clarke lets out another sigh. Her eyes close for a moment and when she opens them, Roan is still there, unfortunately.

“Are you going to go back to the table, or are you going to watch me have an existential crisis for the rest of dinner?”

“Why would I go back when this is so much fun?” Roan drawls, and Clarke scowls again. “I suggest try to at least make it look like you’re having fun, the frown will solidify on your face if you’re not careful.”

Clarke narrows her eyes and finally manages to let out a breath. “You’re a dick.”

“Noted,” Roan says dryly, “your secret’s safe with me, Clarke. That’s not something I’d want my best friend to find out. However I will tell you that he’s clueless.”

Clarke takes another breath and lets it out through her teeth. “Thanks. I’m not sure if that was supposed to make me feel better or not.”

Roan shrugs before turning to go into the mens room. “Take it how you will.”

Clarke slowly makes her way back to the table and takes her seat. Clarke only kind of listens to Bellamy and Echo’s conversation, nodding occasionally when she’s directly addressed. This still fucking sucks.

Echo gets a work call and it leaves Clarke alone with Bellamy at the table, which is somehow worse than when Echo was actually there. Bellamy nudges her shin with his foot, and she looks up from the table. His brows are raised, and he looks a little concerned. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Clarke lies, forcing a smile. He doesn’t look convinced.

“You sure? You’ve been off today… and the last couple weeks, honestly.”

Clarke fiddles with the edge of her napkin and restrains from looking at him. She doesn’t want to see his concerned look. It’ll somehow only make the hole in her chest bigger. “I’ve just had a bad day.”

“That continues for two weeks?”

“Funny how that happens,” Clarke mumbles under her breath, but is saved from answering when Roan returns to the table. He raises a brow at her and Clarke scowls. She doesn’t owe him anything, she doesn’t have to tell him what’s going on. Even if he seems to already know what’s going on. Clarke wants to be swallowed up into the floor. That would be less painful than the evening. 

* * *

 

Someone slams their hands down on the desk at the hospital and Clarke looks up in alarm. But that alarm goes away when she sees that it’s Octavia, and then the fear goes back up because it’s _Octavia_.

“Octavia! What are you doing here? Please don’t tell me that someone’s hurt.”

She rolls her eyes and taps her foot impatiently. “No one’s hurt. When do you go on break?”

Clarke checks her watch, “soon. Why, what’s up?”

“I can’t fucking stand her,” Octavia finally spits out, and Clarke frowns.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Echo,” Octavia grits, and Clarke’s stomach drops at her name. “I can’t fucking stand her, Clarke. She’s awful!”

The blonde sighs, and puts her head into her hands for a moment. “Are you just saying that to make me feel better, or do you actually not like her?”

“I actually don’t like her. I was super fucking confused when I met her, because I didn’t think he’d want to date anyone but you,” those words send a knife through her, “but now that I’m starting to know her I think she’s terrible, Clarke.”

Clarke presses her hands into her eyes for a moment before scooting back the chair. She’s thankful that she was on desk duty today instead of a service. “I’m going on lunch,” she tells one of the other nurses, and they nod. Clarke gently grabs Octavia’s arm and leads her to the cafeteria before sitting her down in a chair. “I will be right back. I’m going to grab some lunch.” Octavia only grunts in response.

Clarke’s head pounds as she grabs her lunch. Octavia’s been quiet about her final judgement call on Echo for the past couple weeks. She hasn’t said anything to Clarke, and she doesn’t think that she’s said anything to Bellamy either. But the fact that Octavia can’t stand her… well, that helps her heart feel a little better.

“Alright. What’s going on?” Clarke says as she sits back down, trying to keep a level head.

Octavia runs her hands through her hair and groans. “Look, I’ve tried to like her. I really have. But she’s just so… mean to me, Clarke. She speaks to me like I’m a child. I’m twenty-two! I’m not a kid. Yes, I’m younger than her, and yes, I’m still figuring out my life, but she doesn’t have to speak to me like I’m an idiot. It’s so hard to get a read on her, the only time her expression changes is when Bellamy’s in the room!”

Clarke chews her lip and tries to keep her own opinions to herself. Granted, she hasn’t really spent a lot of time with Echo, and she doesn’t really want to. That’ll only twist the knife more. Besides, their only interaction was at dinner, and it’s painfully obvious that they have nothing in common. “I’m trying to be friends with her, because I have to, but it’s like she either doesn’t care or doesn’t want to. Or thinks she’s above it. Maybe she thinks I don’t like her, I don’t know. I just—fuck, I don’t know.”

“And on top of that!” Octavia continues loudly, and Jackson catches Clarke’s eye from the other side of the room with a raised eyebrow. She only shakes her head and Jackson nods and turns back to his lunch. “I don’t think she cares enough to get to know me! Like, I’m trying so hard to talk to her and figure out who the hell my brother is dating, but I can’t get a read on her because she refuses to give up any information!”

Clarke sits quietly as Octavia seethes, and then finally opens her mouth to speak. “You know that this situation is not ideal for me. Like, this fucking sucks. And I see where you’re coming from, I do, because I can’t get anything out of her either, but I’m trying. I did my best when I got dinner with them and yeah, my best couldn’t manage to get a read on her at all, but—” Clarke lets out a sigh and presses her fingers into her eyes. “I’m doing my best. Because if he’s happy, I want to see how she makes him happy. And as much as that sucks, that my only option right now.”

“I just can’t connect with her if she doesn’t try too,” Octavia finally mumbles, deflating.

“Maybe you just have to give it time?” Clarke suggests, and Octavia rolls her eyes.

“Time,” she says, “how much time do I give her if I can’t stand being in the same room as her?”

Clarke shrugs, wondering the same exact thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is octavia's reaction believable? i agonized over the ending of this chapter. there will be more elaboration on it next chapter when there's an octavia/echo interaction, but i guess we'll have to wait to see how it goes!
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello! next chapter up! i'm posting this now bc my updates may be a little slower for the next two weeks and this is why: starting monday i'm back at college and i have responsibities that go from nine am to six pm. so i won't have much time to write, but thankfully i have quite a bit already written for the next several chapters. i wanted to let y'all know just in case i went off the grid for a few days at a time lol, but no worries once school starts i'll have ample amount of time to finish this up!
> 
> also, who's excited for the finale? i'm a nervous wreck, basically. i cannot believe it's only saturday, this week has felt longer than the hiatus lol
> 
> anyways! hope you enjoy the chapter!

The next few weeks are excruciatingly painful. Echo’s around more often and Clarke does her best to be friendly with her. But it’s painfully obvious that they are two _very_ different people. They hardly agree on anything and they’re constantly annoyed with each other. They only manage to shut up when Bellamy comes back into view. One time, he left the two of them alone in the apartment for twenty minutes and Clarke was pretty sure that if she didn’t pitch herself out the window, Echo would do it for her.

And Bellamy is a whole other story. He’s still her best friend, but she’s also still very painfully into him. He just doesn’t know it because she’s never going to tell him because he has a girlfriend. And Clarke is not going to be the other woman again. Even if she can’t fucking stand Echo.

Bellamy acts like everything is fine, because in his eyes, it is. He jokes with her and laughs with her and they still watch shitty documentaries but it’s not the same. She doesn’t sit with her legs stretched across his and he doesn’t poke her side the entire time to get her to laugh. She sits on one corner of the couch, and he sits on the other. If he notices a shift, he doesn’t mention it. He teases her like there’s no tomorrow and she does her best to act normal, but sometimes it’s just so fucking hard.

Especially when she comes home from work and Echo is there. Or when she goes to dinner with her friends and Echo is there. Or when he kisses her or his hand is at her lower back.

In short, Clarke Griffin is a jealous bitch.

She doesn’t even try to deny it when Raven brings it up at lunch one day. “You’re jealous.”

Clarke groans and throws her napkin at Raven’s head. “Yeah, I am. I admit it. I admit defeat.”

“You don’t get jealous often.”

“I hate being jealous! I can’t stand it!” Clarke says, lightly pounding her head into the table. Raven laughs sharply, but then sobers. “It’s not like I want to be jealous. I don’t even know when it happened! And now there’s just this gorgeous girl who’s all of the sudden everywhere and all over him and Raven I am _frustrated_.”

“I know. It’s obvious.”

Clarke raises a brow, sitting up slowly. “It’s obvious that I’m jealous?”

Then Raven shakes her head. “No. It’s obvious you’re frustrated. Octavia and I know you’re jealous and Emori and Harper aren’t idiots, but he’s clueless.”

“Doubt Echo is.”

Raven takes a sip of her drink. “No, she’s probably not. She probably has some idea.”

Clarke groans again. “That’s the last thing I need. I’m not getting in between another relationship, I’ve filled my quota with that.” Raven kicks her shin lightly, and Clarke grins sheepishly, “sorry babe, bad joke. Anyways, I don’t know want to do. I’m not spending much time at home, anyways. That way I don’t have to deal with it and I can force my feelings to go away.”

Raven snorts. “You’re going to have to see him.”

“Not if I can help it.”

“You’re an idiot, Griffin.”

“It’s one of my many shining qualities,” Clarke deadpans, “look, if I can just ignore it for a little then it will tone down and Echo will stop looking like she wants to rip my head off.”

Raven looks like she thinks there’s a better idea but doesn’t say anything. “If you say so.” And then her eyes widen. “Fuck.” Clarke doesn’t have to turn around to know that the woman in discussion has just walked in. “Be nice,” Raven says, before turning and waving at Echo.

Clarke manages to get a smile on her face by the time Echo is standing next to their table. “Hey,” Raven says, and Clarke tips her head in a greeting.

“Hey,” Echo responds, glancing at both of them. “I didn’t know you two came here.”

Raven nods, “yeah, we’ve been coming here since college. I didn’t _you_ know you came here.”

“I work right down the street at the lab,” Echo explains, and Raven nods, glancing towards Clarke to gauge how she’s feeling. Not very well, but she’s putting on a brave face. “Yeah, Bellamy said that you did a lot of work in the labs instead of being in the field.”

Echo nods a bit, and rests her to go container on the table. Damn. She’s gonna be here a while, then. “Unfortunately, yeah. I’ve been applying to go into the field for two years now and they either haven’t found a place for me or they refuse to send me anywhere that’s not the States.”

“Where would you want to go?” Clarke finally asks, deciding this is the best time for her to jump into the conversation. She’s going to be polite, cordial, and pleasant, even if it kills her. Which it very well might.

Echo turns to her, thinks thoughtfully for a moment, and then shrugs. “I’m really not sure. Definitely not Europe, if they place me in the field I wanna be in the middle of nowhere. As much as I hate my job, I think I’d hate it a lot less if I got to be out in the field actually doing something instead of sitting on my ass in a lab.”

“Makes sense,” Clarke says, actually understanding where she’s coming from. If she never got to work with patients, she’d probably go insane. Okay, there’s one piece of information that they can agree on.

“So if not Europe, where?” Raven asks, effectively getting Echo’s attention back on her.

“No idea,” Echo replies, and Clarke chews at her lip. “Not here, though.”

“Fair enough,” Raven answers, and Echo picks up her to go container to get ready to leave.

“Anyways. I probably need to head back. Nice to see you Raven, and Clarke.” The latter of the two forces another grin and as soon as Echo’s out of the restaurant, she scowls.

Raven rolls her eyes, “that bad?”

“It just hurts, Raven. Like, I want to hate her. But I can’t because Bellamy’s with her and he’s happy. I’m not mad or anything, it just—it hurts.” And it does. The ache in her chest has only amplified since that conversation, and it’ll stay there for a while. By the time she thinks it’s gone away, she’ll get a text from Bellamy, or she’ll see him on someone’s snapchat, or he’ll be at home when she gets there. It just sucks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make this lunch all about my problems.”

“Hey, don’t feel bad,” Raven reassures, “that’s what we do. We bitch about our problems to each other and then move on.”

Clarke nods, swallowing down the pain. “Alright. Tell me about the pilot. You promised you would, and you’ve been putting it off for weeks!”

Raven scowls, but she can’t hide the bits of pink on her cheeks. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything. Because I know you’ve been hiding it from me. And I can live vicariously through your happiness and then feel better,” Clarke says, and Raven laughs brightly. Clarke manages a real smile, and Raven doesn’t hesitate to jump in.

“Well, you know his name is Zeke, and…”

* * *

 

Bellamy watches as his sister digs in his pantry looking for something to eat. “O, dinner’s gonna be in like, thirty minutes, you do not need to eat three bowls of Lucky Charms.”

“I do what I want,” she grumbles back, and Bellamy raises a brow.

“Everything alright?”

“Fine,” Octavia says, sitting down the table with the box of Lucky Charms and a bowl.

“You know those are Clarke’s, right? You know how protective she is of her Lucky Charms.”

Octavia grunts. “Of course I know. She’s one of my best friends,” she snaps, and Bellamy retreats back to the kitchen. He’s not gonna argue with his sister today. She’s been in a mood for several days and he can’t figure out why. She catches him looking at her and rolls her eyes with exaggeration. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to eat all of her marshmallows. I don’t have a death wish.”

Bellamy can’t stop from snorting at her comment. Clarke loves Lucky Charms, and always complains about there not being enough marshmallows at the bottom. It’s one of the most endearing things about her.

He pauses and shakes his head, turning back to the stove to finish dinner. Echo should be here any minute, and he just hopes that Octavia finds a way out of her sour mood. He also hopes that they can find a way to be friends. Octavia has always been very critical of whoever he’s dating, and he knows this is no different. He just can’t stop thinking about the look on her face when he announced that he was dating someone.

Bellamy puts the lid on the pot when there’s a knock on the door. Octavia’s eyes dart towards the door and he watches them narrow. “Be nice,” Bellamy scolds, and Octavia scowls.

He opens the door and gives his girlfriend a bright smile, and she returns one. Bellamy gives her a quick kiss before letting her in, shooting another look to Octavia.

“Hi, Octavia,” Echo says, and Bellamy sees Octavia’s jaw clench.

“Hey.”

The two stand in tense silence for a moment before Bellamy finally clears his throat. “So, dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes.”

Echo nods, pulling her jacket off and hanging it near the door. “Sounds good. Can I sit here?” She asks Octavia, and Octavia nods. Bellamy swallows and watches as Echo slowly takes a seat next to his sister. He cannot help but feeling that this is not going to go as well as he hoped.

It’s not like Octavia hasn’t been around Echo before. They’ve had dinner a few times, and have had more than a few interactions. Each interaction has been tense, though. Octavia always takes a while to warm up to people, and he knew that it wouldn’t be different for Echo either. He just wishes she would tell him what she thought of her.

Bellamy makes casual small talk, addressing both his sister and his girlfriend as he goes. It’s the only way to fill the silence, since it seems like both Echo and Octavia are intent on not being the first person to speak to the other. They’re both stubborn like that.

When dinner is finally ready, that’s when the two of them finally start talking. It starts out really well. Octavia is polite and asks about Echo’s job, and Echo answers with as much enthusiasm as she can muster, considering how much she hates her job. Echo in turn listens intently to what Octavia has to say about physical therapy.

“I broke my leg when I was fifteen,” Echo explains, “and I had a really hard time with PT, my therapist sucked, so I hope that you’re better than they were.”

Octavia nods, but it seems like that hit a nerve. Bellamy grips the spoon tighter as he serves up their dinner. “Yeah, my clients say that I’m pretty good. I actually helped out Raven a little bit when she tore her ACL, and she’s one of the quickest healers I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, that also could be her insistence to do everything on her own,” Bellamy butts in, and Octavia snorts a bit.

“God, that girl hates having people do her work. No wonder she got better so quickly,” Octavia replies, and Bellamy grins as he sets down their plates. “Looks good. Is this Mom’s recipe?”

Bellamy tips his head in a nod and gets a glass of water for Echo. “Yeah, one of the few I have.”

Octavia nods and eagerly takes a bite, grinning when she tastes it. “Tastes just like hers.” Both of them know that their mother was a mess, but she was a damn good cook when she had enough energy to cook.

Dinner is quiet for a little, as the three of them enjoy the food. Finally, Echo speaks up. “So, where’s Clarke tonight?”

He sees Octavia glance at him before he shrugs. “I’m honestly not sure, O do you have any idea?”

“Probably work,” Octavia says stiffly, the grip on her fork tightening.

“She’s gonna run herself into the ground if she works anymore,” Bellamy points out, and Octavia shrugs a little bit. He narrows his eyes at her and then lets out a breath between his teeth. “Alright. What do you know that I don’t?”

“Nothing.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his dinner. “You liar. I’ve known you your whole life I know when you’re lying. You do this thing where you duck your head and shrug instead of answering and—”

“Bellamy!” Octavia says loudly, putting her hands on the table. “She’s just been busy. She’s been working, and staying at the hospital because of how much she’s working. That’s all I know.” Her voice is cold, and Echo watches between the two of them carefully. Her head isn’t ducking anymore, so he knows that she’s not lying about that. But there’s still something that she’s lying about, and considering it’s regarding Clarke, he thinks he deserves to know.

“Octavia—"

“It’s not your business what she’s doing, Bellamy.” The coolness in Octavia’s voice causes him to recoil a bit. She hasn’t spoken to him in that tone in years. Octavia takes a breath and looks at him, an apology clear on her face. “If she was in trouble, I’d tell you. She’s just been busy with work and other things.”

Bellamy stares at his sister for a moment, and then lets out a breath. “Okay. That’s fine,” he says, but it doesn’t stop him from worrying. He’s a worrier, and Octavia said that there are _other things_ going on. He just doesn’t understand why Clarke hasn’t talked to him about it. He thought that that’s what they did: talk about the shit that they’re going through.

“Alright,” Echo says slowly, standing up from her chair, “I’m gonna do the dishes. Octavia, would you like to join me?” Bellamy’s sister takes a deep breath before nodding and standing up too. Before Echo can make her way to the kitchen with dishes, she leans down and gives Bellamy a deep kiss, surprising him. But he’s not gonna complain, and kisses her back for a moment, grinning when she pulls away with a smirk.

“Thanks for doing the dishes,” he murmurs, and she’s about to say something when there’s a clatter from the kitchen.

Octavia has dropped all of the dishes into the sink with a loud crash. “Sorry,” she says, but she doesn’t look very apologetic at all. Bellamy scowls, he’s gonna have to have a conversation with her about how she acts around his girlfriend.

“I’m gonna go grab some stuff to grade,” he tells the women as he places his silverware and plate in the sink. “Be back in a few.”

Bellamy makes his way back to his room and looks through his backpack for the tests he brought home with him for the weekend. He told his students he’d have them graded by Monday, and now that he’s looking at the daunting task of grading eighty tests he’s regretting that. He scowls to himself. Always biting off more than he can chew.

He makes his way slowly back to the kitchen, but freezes in the hallway when he hears his sister’s harsh voice. “I understand that you’re dating my brother and that does give you some weird authority, but I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop treating me like I’m six. I’m adult, I have a job just like you, and I’m really tired of being spoken to like I’m a child.”

“I don’t speak to you like you’re a child,” Echo shoots back, and Bellamy frowns.

“Okay, yeah. Sure,” Octavia says, laughing emptily. “Every word you said to me before I told you what I did for a living came across as if you were speaking to a toddler. And frankly, Echo, I’m not gonna put up with it, even if you are with my brother.”

The kitchen is quiet for a second before Echo speaks, and her voice is laced with sourness. “And you haven’t told your brother because—?”

“Because it’s my problem, and I’m trying to get to know you and like you, and I’m going to do it without his help. I don’t need him to hold my hand for everything I do, Echo. So I would really like it if we could find some middle ground to stand on. Because I don’t want to fight with you every ten seconds, and I certainly don’t think you want to get in an argument with me,” Octavia says slowly, and Bellamy adjusts the papers in his hands slowly.

The dishes clatter again in the sink and the water turns off. “You think I don’t want to know you?” Her voice is quiet, and a little threatening, and Bellamy strains to hear what Octavia has to say.

She laughs a bit, “no, I don’t, Echo. You haven’t really given me the impression that you care. And I’m trying. I would really like to see you trying too. And I don’t mean to come off as bitchy, and if I do I’m sorry, but Bell always taught me up for myself, and that’s what I’m doing here. So take it or leave it, but I really don’t want to have to be the one that causes us not to get along.”

Bellamy knows it’s time to make himself known. He gets the feeling that this conversation could get a whole lot worse if it continues. So, he slinks back to his room and makes a huge racket coming back to the kitchen. “Couldn’t find any of the tests,” he grumbles, placing them on the coffee table. “Turns out they were in the other bag.”

He’s still reeling from the conversation he overheard.

* * *

 

Clarke gets home around eleven. It’s the first time she’s been home for the night in a week, and honestly, she feels like she could collapse any second. She’s been working off and off for a week, and she stayed at the hospital on Tuesday, and then at Raven’s on Friday, purely because she couldn’t go home. She doesn’t want to go home.

She’s fully accepted that she’s just going to distance herself from Bellamy. If she distances, then the feelings go away. At least, that’s how she’s seeing it. If she just ignores the things that make her heart speed up at a rapid pace, then it won’t happen. It’s the only solution she has. If Bellamy’s noticed, he hasn’t said anything. But he’s smart. So she knows it’s only a matter of time before he figures it out.

Clarke pushes open the door slowly, and immediately wants to turn around when she hears Bellamy and Echo’s voices drifting from the living room. But they’ve already heard the door, and their conversation has stopped very abruptly. She presses her forehead into the wall and takes a deep breath, trying to calm the beating in her chest.

“Clarke?” Bellamy’s voice is quiet, but it still feels like she’s been shot.

She can’t go back now. “Yeah. It’s me.” Clarke slips her shoes off and yanks her jacket off. She takes a deep breath before stepping out of the entry way. She shouldn’t have done that, because then she sees Bellamy and Echo curled on the couch together. His arm is tight across her back and she’s pressed into his side and Clarke wants this to end.

She feels fucking _miserable_.

But Clarke forces a smile and waves a bit at the two of them, before turning to the kitchen to gather herself before going back to her room. As much as she’s hated being here, she’s looking forward to sleeping in her own bed.

She rummages in the fridge and finds leftover macaroni and cheese. Quickly, she puts it in the microwave and glances back at the couple on the couch. She does note that it looks like they’d been having a tense conversation, based on the fact that they stopped talking when she came in and that Bellamy’s jaw is clenched.

Footsteps pad across the floor a few moments later and she sucks in a tight breath. “Hey,” Bellamy says, and she deflates. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been working a lot,” Clarke tells him, turning around slowly. “I put my schedule on the fridge. A lot of our new nurses were transferred to Eden Hospital, and we’ve been working overtime.” It’s not a lie. Technically, it’s not the truth either; she definitely hasn’t had to work as much as she has been.

“Still. I haven’t seen my best friend in a while. That kinda sucks,” Bellamy says, leaning against the counter.

The words make her feel like she’s been run over. _That kinda sucks_. Well, she could tell him a lot of things that kinda suck, but she won’t. “It’s better next week,” she tells him, finally turning to face him. His arms are crossed and he looks a little stressed, but she can’t place the reason why.

“Good,” Bellamy replies, “because I’ve missed you, so we’re gonna order some Chinese this week and watch a shitty Hallmark movie.”

Clarke forces a smile and tries not to let her heart shatter anymore. “Sounds good,” she finally says, and he squeezes her shoulder before returning to the living room. The touch sends fire through her and she leans against the counter. Blinking tears from her eyes, Clarke takes several deep breaths.

She feels so pathetic. She’s pining and she hates it. She _hates_ this. Her stomach is in constant knots and the lump in her throat is now a common occurrence and her heart is always tattered. She hears Bellamy’s quiet voice from the living room and takes another sharp breath. She’s contemplating sleeping in the kitchen to avoid having to pass them, all curled up on the couch together.

But Clarke’s not weak. She may be sad, but she’s not weak. So she takes her macaroni and cheese, and hurries down the hallway before disappearing into her room. It’s her only option at this point, and it sucks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poor clarke. i hate doing this to her but it must be done. also: easter eggs!! 
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! sorry ive been gone so long, this week has been kicking my butt. but here's a chapter! i'll keep this short bc im running super freaking late right now but: it might be riddled with errors again but it's posted and i hope you enjoy!!

“I want to chop my hair off,” Clarke announces when she walks into Emori and Harper’s apartment.

Emori raises a brow and Harper looks up from her coffee cup. “What the fuck, Clarke. It’s seven-thirty in the morning on a Saturday. You don’t even _exist_ until at least ten-thirty on weekends,” Harper yawns, taking a sleepy sip of her coffee. Clarke frowns and then lets out a huff before collapsing into a chair.

“I know, but I woke up really early because I couldn’t sleep anyways and then I got the idea and I want to do it.”

“And you couldn’t wait until a reasonable time?” Emori asks, but there’s a hint of teasing in her voice.

“Obviously not,” Clarke replies, a small smile forming on her face. “The only reason I came over here is because Harper’s a hairdresser when she’s not leading kickboxing classes at work, and I wanted her to do it. Because I probably should not be trusted when putting scissors near my hair. We all remember the incident junior year of college.” Both of her friends grimace, which only proves Clarke’s point. “Exactly. So I want it gone. Chopped off.”

“How much?” Harper asks, looking up at her from her coffee cup.

Clarke shrugs. “A lot.”

“Can we give you an inverted mohawk? John left his razor here on accident the other weekend!” Emori asks, and Clarke sticks out her tongue at her. Her eyes go wide as she gets another idea. “Or a mullet! No—better idea! _A bowl cut_.”

“My mom gave me a bowl cut when I was like, four,” Clarke points out, and Emori dissolves into laughter. “And before you ask, yes, I have a picture. It’s framed in my living room because—” Clarke pauses, because Bellamy’s the one who put it there. He found it one day and thought it was the funniest thing, and decided that the entire world needed to see it. Dammit. She was doing so well. “Because it’s there,” she finishes lamely, disappointment flooding her again. Every time she thinks she’s fine everything comes rushing back to her.

Emori nods, seeming to understand. “Well?” She turns to Harper quickly, “what do you say? Should we shave her head?”

Harper snorts, rolling her eyes. “I’m not going to shave her head, her hair’s too pretty for that. I will cut it, though. Give me a little time to wake up so I don’t accidentally give you an inverted mohawk.”

Clarke grins, relaxing a little bit. She’s so fucking grateful for her friends.

So an hour and a half later, Clarke sits in their kitchen on a stool with a towel wrapped around her shoulders. Harper surveys Clarke’s head, and lifts up a chunk to examine it. “So, you do have a lot of dead ends. How short were you thinking?”

“Mohawk, mohawk, mohawk…” Emori chants, and Clarke lets out a peel of laughter. “You know you want to, Griffin. Do it.”

“I do not want a mohawk. Just—something shorter. Lighter. Maybe it’ll make me feel better.” Harper nods thoughtfully, gesturing at Emori to hold up the hand mirror.

“Okay,” she mumbles, lifting her hand to a spot right above Clarke’s shoulder. “This good? Or not what you wanted?”

Clarke makes a face and Harper snorts. “Maybe a little higher,” Harper nods, and raises her fingers to right below her jawline. Clarke stares at it for a moment, thinking it over. It certainly would make washing her hair easier. Maybe she’ll feel lighter because her hair is lighter. So, she nods. Harper raises a brow, “here? It’ll shrink up a bit once it’s dried.”

“Right there,” Clarke agrees confidently, and Harper nods.

“Alright. Let’s do it. Don’t worry I already told Raven what you’re doing, and she told me that I can’t let you ruin your hair,” Harper informs as she lifts up her scissors.

“Well, you’ll be the one ruining my hair.”

“One more comment like that and maybe I will give you a mohawk,” Harper mutters, and Clarke grins at her friend. Harper shakes her hands and looks at Emori who’s hopping up on the counter to watch. “You ready?”

“Do it.”

So she does, and thirty minutes later, Clarke’s golden tresses are on the floor. Clarke’s been chewing at her lip since the first cut, and she’s honestly scared to look. She can feel the ends of her hair brush against her jaw, and that’s really weird. “Does it look okay?” Clarke asks nervously, and Emori studies her for a moment, before grinning.

“You look damn good Clarke.”

“It suits you,” Harper agrees, snipping one last piece of hair. “Alright. I’m done. Go take a look!”

Clarke stands slowly and hands Harper the towel before reaching for the mirror on the counter. Clarke takes a break and holds it up and… she’s actually fond of the haircut. Actually, she really likes it. She runs a quick hand through it, and it just feels so healthy, and clean, and new.

She’s not sure how it can happen, but a haircut just made her feel better. Clarke turns and grins at Harper quickly. “I love it. Thank you.”

“I should’ve given you the mohawk,” is Harper’s response, and a bright laugh seeps out of Clarke.

“Imagine the look on Raven’s face if you had given me a mohawk,” Clarke mutters, swishing a hand through her hair. She does like it. It’s different, and she’s not used to it being so short, but she likes it. “Thanks, Harp.”

Harper gives her a bright smile and puts the scissors down, fluffing up Clarke’s hair. “You’re a new woman! I can’t believe you let me do this.”

Emori hops off of the counter and reaches into the pantry to eat a handful of Cheerios. “She doesn’t trust other hairstylists, you were her only option.”

Harper pretends to frown and tosses the comb at their friend. Their giggles echo in Clarke’s head and god, she’s so glad she has these people. Harper hops up next to Emori and stares at Clarke for a moment, her smile falling off of her face. “How’re you feeling?”

Clarke shrugs, and then looks down at her hands. “I guess as okay as I can be. It sucks but I’m trying to push through it. It’s like when you and Murphy were fighting,” Clarke says, glancing at Emori, “it sucks right now but it’s gotta get better eventually.” Clarke and Emori have gotten infinitely closer in the last few weeks, and Clarke’s not really sure why but she’s not going to question it. She’s grateful for her friendship.

“God, I wish you were dating him,” Harper says, and Clarke can only snort.

“Yeah, that makes two of us.”

“Three,” Emori grumbles as she shoves a handful of Cheerios into her mouth. “It’s not that she’s bad it’s just that she’s… she’s not you. Like it just makes sense, you and Bellamy.”

Clarke scowls a bit, because yeah, it would. But she can’t do anything about that, and she’s not going to. “Yeah, well, Bellamy’s an idiot when it comes to relationships, so—”

Both Harper and Emori laugh a bit, before Harper jumps down from the counter. “Shitty reality TV time?”

“Don’t we need Monty and Jasper to do that?” Clarke asks, but still follows Harper into the living room.

She shrugs, throwing a smile back at Clarke. “They’ll forgive us.”

God, Clarke is so thankful for her friends.

* * *

 

Bellamy gets a text from Echo halfway through last period. All it says is _call me when you get the chance!_ and he wracks his brain trying to figure out what could be going on. Usually, she tells him straight up. Now she’s just being cryptic.

He pushes it out of his mind until the end of the day and then calls her as he’s walking to his car. “Hey,” she says when he picks up.

“Hey, everything okay?” Bellamy asks, tossing his backpack into his truck.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” she replies, and there’s a smile evident in her voice. “There’s just something I wanna tell you. Can you come over?”

Bellamy raises a brow to himself but agrees to her request. Thirty minutes later, he’s pulling up in front of her house. Roan’s just exiting, and the look of surprise is clear on his face. “Didn’t think I’d see you here, lover boy.”

Bellamy groans and closes his door. “I told you, don’t call me that.”

“Oh, but it’s so perfect. You don’t even know the half of it,” Roan smirks, and Bellamy puzzles over his words as he walks to the door. Once inside, he finds Echo pacing the living room, but her face lights up when she sees him.

“Hey,” he says a little cautiously as she grins at him. She’s always very private with her emotions, even around him, so this is a little weird. “How are you?”

“Bellamy, I’m great,” she says, “really, I am.”

He grins a bit, dipping down to kiss her. “Alright. Are you gonna tell me why you’re so great?”

Echo reaches for the coffee table and holds up a manila envelope. He raises his brow as she opens it, reaching for one of the papers inside. He watches with amusement as his girlfriend lifts it up and begins to read. “Echo Neva, we are pleased to inform you that your consideration for field work has been accepted.”

He feels elation and pride swell in him as he realizes exactly what that means. “Echo! That’s—that’s fantastic! That’s incredible! Where are they putting you?” He asks, just as he realizes exactly what _that_ means. She’s not going to be in Boston anymore.

She continues to read, oblivious to the drop in Bellamy’s stomach. “You have been placed in Nepal to study the base of the Himalayas. You are to report to the laboratory in Ghode Pani by the first of July. We look forward to hearing from you. Bellamy!”

“Nepal,” is all he can say.

“Nepal!” She repeats, with much more enthusiasm than he has. “They want me in Nepal! Do you know how huge that is? I’m going to the _Himalayas_. I’ve wanted to go there my _whole life_.”

Bellamy nods a bit, the anxious feeling in his body growing by the second. “Echo, that’s great, it really is. I’m happy for you and I’m proud of you. I know how much you wanted to get into the field.”

“But?” She asks, seeing right through him.

“Nepal.”

“Yeah? What about it? I’m not—I’m not seeing why Nepal is a problem.”

A flash of irritation runs through him and he clenches his jaw. “Nepal is really fucking far away,” is what he finally says. “How are _we_ supposed to handle that?”

Echo’s quiet for a moment as she alternates between looking at him and the paper in her hands. “Well,” she finally says, stepping a little closer to him, “maybe you’d like to come?”

Deafening silence echoes in the room. His jaw is slack and he doesn’t have a fucking clue what he’s supposed to say to that. Nepal. She wants him to move to Nepal with her, for her. Bellamy’s eyes are narrowed and his body is frozen as she stares him down. “Echo—” And then he stops, because he doesn’t even know how to articulate what he’s feeling.

When he finally goes speak, his voice is shaking with some sort of emotion that he can’t place. “I can’t just up and move to Nepal, Echo! My whole life here, my friends, my family, my job.” It’s neither logical, nor something he wants to do. He likes where he’s at and he likes being so close to his friends. A nagging voice in his head says that he doesn’t think he could leave Octavia or Clarke or their friends and move to Nepal. He doesn’t know why Clarke is in a different category, and he doesn’t want to think about it. He pushes that down. Not the time.

Echo stands in silence for a moment, her fingers still clutching the folder like it’s her lifeline. “I just thought that it would make sense if—”

“Make sense if what?” He snaps, and then takes a deep breath to try to calm himself down.

“If you came with me. Because long distance would suck,” _very_ long distance, “and I don’t want that for us.”

Bellamy clenches his jaw and runs a hand through his hair angrily. “Echo, we’ve been dating for two months. How long are they putting you in Nepal?”

“Two years.”

“Two—two _years_? So in that case, we’d spend most of our relationship in long distance. How often would we be able to talk? Would we ever see each other? Is that what you imagined for us?”

“No,” Echo says coolly, her eyes hardening. “That’s why I wondered if you wanted to come.”

Bellamy swallows whatever emotions he’s feeling and forces out a few words, “I can’t leave Boston. I don’t want to leave Boston.” Bellamy runs a hand through his hair and shifts uncomfortably on his feet. “When do they want you there?”

“July 1st,” she repeats, reading it off of the paper. It’s halfway through May now. Even if he was considering moving to fucking Nepal they would still have only been together less than four months. It’s not logical. It doesn’t make sense. He can’t move to Nepal. Bellamy’s mind is reeling. “That gives us another month and a half.”

_To do what_ , is his first thought. Then he just feels incredibly guilty, because all he’s thinking about is what happens when she does go to Nepal. He’s not a fan of long distance relationships, and that kind of long distance would be absolutely awful. He doesn’t think it’d be one of those “absence makes the heart grow fonder” kind of things. They’d end up fizzling out, and one of them would eventually break it off.

Bellamy can’t even make himself think of what they’re going to do for the next month and a half, because honestly, now that she’s already decided that she’s going to Nepal, he doesn’t know if he wants to keep this up. Because when she does go, and he doesn’t, they’ll break up before. He supposes it’s better to get it over with now.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t have feelings for her, because he does, but things have always been weird with Echo. Not a bad weird, just… different. It’s always felt like there’s something that’s been missing. He’s been afraid to think about it since they started dating, because once he voices it, it becomes even more real. More obvious.

He’s only recently started to pinpoint what makes it feel so different. They aren’t really friends. Like sure, they’re dating each other, and they know each other on an intimate level, but he doesn’t _know_ her. She’s a private person, and doesn’t share a lot about her life. He doesn’t know anything about her family except that they live in Canada and she rarely speaks to them.

Sometimes it feels like he isn’t friends with his girlfriend. That’s a hard pill to swallow. Bellamy wishes that it was different, but it’s not. They started dating soon after meeting her. Yeah, he knows her favorite color and her favorite food, but besides the basics, he doesn’t know anything else. And that’s frustrating to him.

They stare at each other in silence for a long time. 

* * *

 

The first thing Bellamy notices when he sees Clarke next is that she cut her hair.

He hasn’t seen her in a few days, so the first shock is that she’s actually in the kitchen making something for dinner. The second shock is that her hair looks good. Not that it didn’t look good before, but he’s fond of the length.

Jesus.

Not the time.

“Hey,” he says, excited to talk to her after not seeing her for several days.

But, when she turns, he sees her face dropping into the blank expression he’s been receiving for several weeks. “Hey,” Clarke replies, before turning back to the counter.

Bellamy frowns. God, he just wants to talk to her without her shutting him out. The realization hits him like a pile of bricks. That’s what’s been happening. She’s been shutting him out and he doesn’t know why. Not only is his relationship probably falling apart, his best friend won’t even talk to him about the things that are bothering her. “Is everything okay?”

Clarke nods sharply, “mhm. Everything’s fine.”

“It doesn’t look fine.”

“I’m fine, I promise,” she replies, turning back around and giving him a smile. But he can see that it’s forced, and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Did you know that you’re lying?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at her. Dammit, just talk to him. That’s all he’s asking.

Clarke drops the knife and turns back to face him, spluttering as she goes. “I’m not lying,” she tells him, and Bellamy rolls his eyes. He’s at least seeing a glimmer of the Clarke he knows, his Clarke, and there’s a fire in her eyes again. “I’m perfectly fine. If something was wrong I’d tell you. If I was dying I’d tell you.”

“I certainly hope so,” Bellamy mutters, furrowing his brows. “Look, you’ve just been off for the last couple months, and I’m worried about you. That’s all. And if you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine, but it’s kind of hard to avoid when we live together, Clarke.”

She ducks her head and chews on her lip, and Bellamy waits for an answer. Because he so desperately wants to know why she’s shutting him out, but if she doesn’t want to tell him, he can’t force it. Even if it’ll keep him up half of the night. “I just—I can’t tell you.” Bellamy raises his brows and she takes a sharp breath, “I probably will someday but for now I can’t. It’s more of uh, more of a Raven thing.”

As much as he wants to know, he knows he has to accept that answer for now. “Okay,” he finally says, uncrossing his arms and taking another deep breath. “Okay. That’s fine.” Clarke nods and goes to pick up her plate to bring back to her room. “Your hair looks nice,” he tells her as she retreats down the hallway, and then she freezes.

“Thanks,” she says as she turns back momentarily, and he could swear that her cheeks are pink. “Just needed something different.”

Bellamy nods as he edges his way towards his room. “It looks good,” he teases as he tugs lightly on the end of a bit of hair. This time, he’s certain her cheeks are pink.

Later that night he hears her crying in her room, and he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t think she’d tell him even if he asked. 

* * *

 

“Alright, that’s enough moping. We’re going out, and you’re going to like it.” Clarke groans when she answers Raven’s call.

“Raven, I don’t want to go out.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Griffin! You’ve been moping for two months and I’m tired of it, and I know you’re tired of it! So we’re going to go out, and we’re going to have fun, and we’re going to forget about whatever his name is,” Raven says, and Clarke cracks a smile. “Seriously, Bellamy who? Doesn’t matter, cause we’re going out.”

“Aren’t we a little too old to be going out?”

“Clarke, you’re literally like, what, twenty-three? You don’t just _stop_ going out. So we’re going to go. I’m going to pick you up in an hour with an Uber, and we’re going to go out and have fun, because we both deserve it. Okay?” The line is quiet for a moment, and Clarke sighs. Raven speaks up again, “Clarke, I don’t want to see you be this upset anymore. I just want to help you have some fun.”

She pauses for a moment and rolls on her bed so that she’s on her stomach. She takes a breath, and says, “okay. You pulled my leg. Let’s go.”

“Ah-hah! I knew you’d cave!” Raven cheers, and Clarke laughs a bit, smiling at her friend’s enthusiasm. “Okay be there in an hour bye!”

Clarke takes another deep breath and rolls back onto her back, realizing that she’s actually going to have to get up and look nice. Dammit.

But lo and behold, and hour later Clarke is leaving her apartment to find Raven in an Uber. They hardly go out anymore, despite Raven’s insistence that they aren’t old. Usually, they just drink in one of their apartments. But tonight, Raven obviously thinks that they deserve something different, so she’s not gonna argue anymore. Arguing with Raven is never a good thing.

So, they eventually get to where they’re going, and Raven doesn’t hesitate to pull Clarke through the door, barely giving the bouncer a moment to glance at their ID’s. “What do you want to drink?”

“The strongest thing they have,” Clarke responds, and Raven snorts a bit before pulling Clarke towards the bar. Clarke is thrown by the person who’s behind it. “Roan?”

The man in question looks up with a puzzled expression, but then he only smirks when he sees that it’s Clarke. “Ah, yes. The roommate. I didn’t know you knew how to have fun.”

“Dick,” Clarke replies, glaring at him, but Roan’s smirk only grows wider.

“What would you do without my charming sense of humor?”

“Be able to live without it,” Clarke tells him dryly, as Raven finally turns her gaze to him.

She raises a brow, “who’s the hunk of meat?”

Clarke chokes on her laughter before she can get a word out. “Raven, this is Roan, Echo’s roommate.”

Raven raises both her brows in recognition, and then reaches across the bar to shake his hand, “Raven. Smartest person you’ll ever meet.”

Clarke bites on her lip to keep from laughing. Roan looks vaguely surprised, but covers quickly. “Pleasure,” he says dryly, before turning his attention back to Clarke. “So. You’ve finally stopped moping over lover boy, I see.”

Raven’s eyes nearly pop out of her head, and she turns quickly to Clarke. “How—”

“Don’t ask,” Clarke grumbles, before frowning at Roan. “I don’t think that’s any of your business, Roan. Now, can we please have your strongest drink?”

“Atta girl!” Raven cheers, laughing a bit as Roan cocks his head at the two of them.

“And before you say it,” Clarke says, as Roan begins on their drinks, “this has nothing to do with him.”

“Yeah, and I’m a dumbass. I’ll start a tab,” he drawls, staring at the two of them for a moment before turning back to their drinks.

Once they’ve got them, Raven pulls Clarke closer to her and whispers rapidly, “girl, if I wasn’t working on getting with Zeke, I’d totally be on that man’s dick. Get on his dick.”

Clarke laughs dryly, and takes a long sip of her drink, “he’s not the dick I want.” Even if she didn’t only want Bellamy, she doesn’t know if she’d go for Roan. He’s hot, but… her type is Bellamy. As sad as that sounds.

“Oh, come on! Tonight is for fun! Maybe you can find a hot person and seduce them with your inability to have fun,” Raven teases, and Clarke can’t keep the grin off of her face. She really has missed this easy humor she and Raven can have. It’s been difficult lately, especially with Clarke being so down in the dumps.

“I can be fun,” Clarke counters, laughing, and Raven throws her head back with a grin.

“Prove it.”

It’s a challenge, and Clarke’s never one to back down from a challenge.

So she does prove it. She and Raven dance like they’re back in college and deciding to be friends to spite Finn. She wishes that Octavia was here, so that it could be just like old times, but she hasn’t been feeling well and decided to stay home. But Clarke still has fun dancing with Raven like they have no other care in the world.

They take a couple tequila shots with two women at the bar, and they take another one in honor of Jasper, who loves tequila so much. He would be so much fun tonight. “Next time,” Clarke says, throwing an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “Next time we bring Jasper.”

“God he would love girls night,” Raven says, a broad smile on her face. Her eyes dart around the room for a moment, before her smile turns sly. “Hey. Someone’s looking at you.”

Clarke raises a brow, but doesn’t turn. “Oh?

“Mmhmmm,” Raven hums, a bright, tipsy smile on her face. “Oh yeah. She’s been staring at you for like, ten minutes. She wants you,” Raven says confidently, and Clarke snorts.

“Oh does she? Maybe she wants you,” Clarke teases back, and Raven rolls her eyes.

“Well I, unlike you, do not radiate Drunk Bisexual Disaster vibes. Yes, Monty told me about that night, and honestly you really are a disaster,” Raven rambles, and Clarke can only laugh. This is her favorite stage of Drunk Raven. Rambling Raven.

“At least I’m not Raisin Reyes.”

Raven’s eyes go wide and she forces a drunk scowl, “you bitch, you said you’d never bring that up again!”

“I _lied_.”

Raven frowns, but it can’t quite cover the amusement in her face. “Well? Are you gonna go talk to her?”

It’s another challenge, and Clarke isn’t backing down from that one. “What about you?”

Raven shrugs, and grins a little timidly. “Zeke’s on his way.”

“God you are a _goner_ ,” Clarke laughs, taking another sip from whatever drink she has in her hand now. She’s pleasantly tipsy, and she’s feeling really good. “You knew this was how it was gonna go, huh?”

Raven shrugs, and then smiles. “I guess I just have a sixth sense for this kinda thing,” she says, and Clarke can’t stop her smile.

“I’ll wait till he gets here,” Clarke tells her, never one to abandon her friend at the club.

Raven nods gratefully and the two dance again until Zeke shows up, edging his way into the area to find Raven. The girl in question laughs when she sees him and throws herself into his arms, pressing a long kiss to his cheek. By the look on his face, that’s the first time she’s done it.

“She’s all yours,” Clarke grins, winking at Raven as they go. Then, she swivels around to find the woman still watching her.

Now or never, Clarke thinks, before pushing her way out of the throng of people and to the woman. She leans against the wall next to her, and crosses her arms over her chest. “Hey.”

The woman’s eyebrows raise, and yeah, she is attractive. “Hey,” she echoes, and Clarke chews on the inside of her cheek.

“Clarke,” she says and the woman finally looks at her and grins, before putting a hand on her back.

“Niylah,” she responds, and Clarke hums at the feeling of physical touch. God, she’s always craved touch, but now more than ever. “Would it be to forward of me to ask to get out of here?”

And then Clarke laughs and shakes her head, because nope, it wouldn’t be.

* * *

 

“I made pancakes,” is what Niylah says when Clarke finally drags herself out of bed.

She groans and drops her head onto the table, “you’re a godsend.”

“I know,” Niylah snickers, and Clarke rolls her eyes. She had fun last night. Really, she did. It was nice to be able to let loose for a while. She doesn’t really hook up with people, but it was fun with Niylah.

“Thanks,” Clarke says when Niylah puts the plate on the table. Clarke digs in and they sit in silence for a minute, and Clarke agonizes over how to tell her that this was a one-time thing. Because she really did like Niylah, but she’s not what she’s looking for. The annoying nagging voice in her head says that she’s only looking for Bellamy, but she ignores it.

“So,” Niylah says, after several minutes of silence, “this was a one-time thing, right? Not that you’re not great or anything,” Niylah says quickly as Clarke raises a brow. “But I’m not looking for a relationship. And I don’t think you’re looking for one either unless it’s with a specific person.”

Clarke grimaces. “That obvious?”

Niylah shrugs, but only grins. “Nah, not terribly. But I had a hunch and went out on a limb.”

“I had fun,” Clarke offers, feeling a little guilty, but Niylah only smiles. “Did you?”

“I got to have sex with a hot stranger, of course I had fun,” she replies, and Clarke smiles at her. “Good. But we probably aren’t strangers anymore.”

“Probably not,” Niylah agrees with a grin. Clarke’s glad she let Raven drag her to the club the night before.

* * *

 

Clarke closes the front door quietly and locks it. She pushes her shoes off of her feet slowly and tries to get back to her room. Tries, being the keyword. Bellamy is already awake, and he looks _pissed_.

“You didn’t come home last night,” he says, and she spins towards the kitchen to face him.

“I went out,” she responds coolly. She studies him for a moment, a bit startled when he’s staring at her with a look that she hasn’t seen directed at her in a long time. It looks like he’s judging her, and he’s angry. But Clarke doesn’t cower.

“I see that,” Bellamy replies. “I just don’t know why you couldn’t have let me know that you weren’t going to be coming home.”

Clarke shrugs and drops her purse on the counter. “I didn’t know I wouldn’t be coming home,” she mutters, hoping that he won’t catch it, but he does. She doesn’t have to tell him where she was. She’s an adult.

“Were you with Raven?”

“I was.” Until she wasn’t. She doesn’t tell him that. She’s not sure it would be taken very well, given his current state. Even though she’s not one hundred percent certain what this state is.

Bellamy huffs and puts his coffee cup on the counter. He glances down at her, and in an instant, his entire demeanor has changed. “Nice shirt.” Clarke chews at the inside of her cheek and crosses her arms over her chest. Niylah wasn’t going to let her do the walk of shame, and offered a t-shirt. That’s not a big deal. He’s all of the sudden angry and irritated and she doesn’t get it. That in turn makes _her_ angry and irritated.

“Thanks,” Clarke replies, clenching her jaw. Bellamy still doesn’t look satisfied and she huffs. “Look, I don’t know why you have your panties in a twist about this. I went out, I went home with someone, and I had fun! That’s not a crime.”

“You should have told me where you were,” he spits and Clarke rolls her eyes.

“You never told me when you were hooking up with someone all of those years ago. I don’t see why it has to be different now that I’m doing it,” Clarke grumbles, clenching her jaw. This is fucking ridiculous. It shouldn’t matter, and technically he shouldn’t care.

Bellamy’s eyes flash with something she hasn’t seen in months. “We weren’t exactly friends back then, Princess.” The name feels like a slap to the face. It hasn’t been used in that tone in months. It’s icy and stern, and she hates it.“I didn’t have to tell you where I was or what I was doing.”

“And I shouldn’t have to tell you,” she spits back, “I am an adult, Bellamy. I’m allowed to hook up with people. I don’t see why when I do it suddenly it’s _so bad_ but you’re given free range to do whatever the fuck you want.”

“You know that’s not—”

“Then why do you care this much? I was safe. She didn’t hurt me. I had fun. I don’t see why that’s suddenly a crime.” Clarke says, rolling her eyes. “You shouldn’t even have a problem with this.”

“And why not?” His voice raises and her head pounds a bit more.

Clarke stops, because she doesn’t want to tell him why he shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t care, because he has a girlfriend. He shouldn’t care if she’s hooking up with someone. But instead of saying that, she says, “because I’m a grown woman, and I can do what I want. Stop mothering me.”

His nostrils flare again and Clarke glares at him because this is so fucking stupid. “You just don’t do _that_ a lot.”

“What, hook up with someone? Oh, now are you shaming me for having sex?” And now, she’s angry. Because he doesn’t get to fucking do that.

“You know that’s not—”

“Then what is it, Bellamy?” She says loudly, her voice and anger rising rapidly. “Because it really sounds like it.

Bellamy backtracks quickly but Clarke is seeing red. He gets free range to do whatever the fuck he wants but as soon as Clarke is having a little fun it’s like he’s Mr. No Fun Allowed, and it’s so fucking stupid. She’s angry and upset because she’s been trying to get over him for two months now, and when she finally takes a step to do so, it’s like he’s _angry_ about it. He doesn’t even know that she’s half in love with him and he’s upset that she’s going out! She hates this!

“I’m just worried about you,” Bellamy says calmly, but there’s still venom in his voice. “This just isn’t something you do.”

“Yeah, well, maybe now it is. Stay the fuck out of my business, Bellamy. It shouldn’t matter to you anyways.” He goes to say something, but she holds up a hand. “I’m going to bed. Don’t bother me.”

Clarke passes a startled looking Echo in the hallway but can’t bring herself to care. She’s too angry at Bellamy. Because all of the sudden as soon as she goes out and meets someone it’s like he has a problem with it. And how ridiculous is that! It’s absolutely incredulous and Clarke is fuming. She taps out an angry message to Raven but then deletes it, knowing that her half-hungover self will say something else she doesn’t mean. She’s just so mad.

She screams into her pillow and then yanks her clothing off to get in the shower.

Bellamy Blake is the fucking worst. She doesn’t know how she was into him in the first place.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hm, wonder why bellamy's demeanor changed?
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clxrkeblxke!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO sorry this took so long!! the last two weeks have been insane, but i'm through them. college has started up again but thankfully things don't get really busy until the second week of september, so i'm hoping to be able to bust out multiple chapters between now and then! so expect more updates hopefully haha. i really struggled with parts of this chapter, but i think i'll be able to make it up to you with the next few.
> 
> i have the next couple of chapters almost finished, so now it's a matter of editing and revising and making sure it all makes sense in the context of the story. also sorry that i left y'all on kind of a bad chapter lol but i'm also sorry to say that the angst kind of continues this chapter... so... sry. not rly bc i know what happens anyways, but.
> 
> the masses asked about roan, and i delivered.

Four days.

That’s how long it’s been since Clarke has spoken to him.

He feels like he’s going absolutely insane.

Bellamy knows that he shouldn’t have said what he did. He made a poor decision in his word choice and only ended up making her angry. Which, he knows he should never do, because an angry Clarke is a scary Clarke.

He knows that she can hold grudges; once she didn’t speak to Wells for half a year after they got into a fight about what happened to her dad. He didn’t expect her to immediately speak to him again. But four days? They usually work their shit out as soon as they’ve cooled down, so he’s a little confused and a little upset.

It doesn’t help that now that it’s almost summer vacation, and that he doesn’t have much to do. Finals are in three weeks, so all he’s doing is grading and preparing his students. He won’t have any inservice or anything until the middle of August, so now he just gets to sit at home and stew because Clarke still won’t speak to him.

It also doesn’t help that everything with Echo is still up in the air. After he and Clarke got in that stupid fight, there was a major shift in the relationship. He supposes it has something to do with the fact that Echo had stayed the night and had heard the entire fight. She’s been distant, and he’s been distant, and overall it’s just been this mess of distance.

And honestly? As terrible as it sounds, he’s not horribly broken up about it. She’s moving to Nepal at the end of June, and he’s not going with her, so they’re going to have to end things eventually. He hasn’t exactly told her that he’s not going to Nepal, but Bellamy thinks the message was clear. He doesn’t really know how well they’d do at long distance, and there’s something else that’s been brewing in his stomach for a couple weeks now and it’s frustrating him.

It’s making him feel disloyal.

But he’s choosing to ignore it for now.

He doesn’t know how else to handle it. He’s also choosing to not put a name to what he’s feeling, because then it’s real. The feelings freak Bellamy out. So he’s decided that he’s going to avoid it for as long as possible, and hope that it goes away.

No such luck.

He’s getting home from the gym one Saturday morning when it happens. Bellamy still has his headphones in and he’s not paying too much attention, so he doesn’t notice the man standing in his kitchen at first.

Bellamy’s eyes snap up when he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. And then he finds Roan of all people standing next to the coffee machine. He stares dumbfounded for a moment and Roan raises his cup in greeting. “Morning.” He drags out the word, and Bellamy’s jaw is slack for a moment before the confusion and the anger hits him.

“What the _hell_ —” Bellamy starts angrily, but he doesn’t finish his sentence because then he hears Clarke’s voice.

“Roan, can you—” And then she freezes, looking beyond startled. Bellamy’s eyes immediately zero in on the hickey peaking out from over the collar of her t-shirt.

His stomach _burns_.

Bellamy’s eyes snap to Roan’s and the man only stands tall, cocking his head with a smirk. Bellamy wants to wipe it off of his face, but he doesn’t know how. He just knows he’s angry for no other reason than the fact that Roan is in his kitchen and has very obviously just stayed the night with Clarke

“Well,” Roan says tactfully, putting his cup down and clapping his hands together, “that looks like my que to leave.” He turns to Clarke and Bellamy’s blood boils. “Thanks for last night, it was a lot of fun. We should do it again sometimes,” Roan says quietly, and Bellamy’s not sure if he was supposed to hear or not, but _oh_ , he did. And he’s feeling too many things at the moment.

And then Roan is gone, and it’s just him and Clarke in the apartment. And it is _deathly_ silent.

She’s staring him down, as if she’s waiting for him to say something about her current state. About how this is what she does now. But he can’t even formulate a sentence.

Bellamy’s not a disloyal person. He doesn’t cheat, and when he’s in a relationship with someone, he’s dedicated to that person. So the feelings that he has in his chest are throwing him for a loop.

He has now fully accepted that he’s jealous. He was jealous when Clarke came home after spending the night with that girl, and he’s definitely jealous now as he realizes that she slept with Roan. His stomach is burning with jealousy and shame and he hates himself for it. Because he shouldn’t be feeling these feelings. He has a girlfriend. Yes, that relationship is strained, and yes, it’s probably going to end soon, but he feels so _guilty_ about it.

He shouldn’t be feeling these things, because she’s his roommate and everything is supposed to be platonic. But seeing Clarke right now is making him question everything he’s ever thought about her.

“So this _is_ what you do now,” is what Bellamy finally says, his voice dripping with something called contempt.

Her eyes flash and he knows that it was a poor choice of words. “Isn’t that what I told you?” She spits back, crossing her arms over her chest and Bellamy glowers at her. “I don’t see how it’s a problem. So if you do, please enlighten me,” Clarke says, sarcasm laced like venom in her words.

Bellamy doesn’t want another screaming fight between the two of them. He just wants them both to get along again and go back to how things were before all of this bullshit happened. But he’s jealous, and he’s angry. He takes a deep breath and clenches his fists together before releasing them. “Are you at least being safe?”

Clarke rolls her eyes and crosses her hands over her chest and Bellamy desperately tries to keep his eyes on her face. “Of course I’m being safe,” she spits and he swallows thickly.

“Can’t have you getting pregnant.”

Her eyes darken again and her mouth pulls into a scowl. “You’re a dick, you know that right?”

“The one and only,” he grumbles bitterly, and Clarke rolls her eyes again.

“I’m really just fucking tired of you getting on to me about something that shouldn’t even matter to you,” she tells him, obviously still angry, and he throws his hands up.

“Would you care to explain why it shouldn’t matter to me? You’re my best friend, and I fucking care about your life, Clarke.”

She seethes for a moment, before stepping forward and jabbing her finger into his chest. “It shouldn’t fucking matter to you because you have a girlfriend. You haven’t exactly asked how I’ve been doing despite the fact that this past half a year has fucking sucked! So you don’t get to tell me that you care all of the sudden!”

“Oh, so now I can’t care about you? It’s not like _you’ve_ been avoiding _me_!” He yells, his voice rising with every word. He didn’t miss the first part of her sentence. He shouldn’t fucking care because he has a girlfriend. Well, he’ll admit she’s got him there. But the latter half of the sentence has him fuming.

“That is _not_ what I said,” Clarke shouts back, her eyes widening with anger. Her voice is loud and he’s fucking terrified of this woman, but now he’s really fucking angry too. “You just can’t all of the sudden start to care about me when I do something that you don’t approve of. And don’t give me that look,” she growls, jabbing another finger into his chest when he scowls at her. “I’m not blind. It’s written all over your face that you hate that I’m doing this. You can’t stand it, because you don’t approve of it. Well, newsflash, Bellamy, it’s not your fucking life. Get over it.”

“I can’t just get over it,” he snaps, stepping away from her before she can poke his chest again, “I’m fucking worried about you.”

Now she throws her hands up, and the upstairs neighbors start to stomp, and that seem to only make her angrier. “Oh, but you couldn’t be worried about me when you’ve heard me crying in my room?” She shouts, and he runs his hands through his hair.

“You didn’t exactly seem like you wanted to be around me, Clarke!”

“Maybe I didn’t,” she hisses, her voice dangerously low, “and I certainly don’t want to be around you now. Go to hell, Bellamy.”

And she stomps back to her room, leaving him with annoying neighbors, an angry head, and a confused heart.

* * *

 

“Raven, I’m gonna kill him. I really am. I thought I could get over it but—” Clarke says as she marches into her friend’s shop, but she’s cut off by an unfamiliar voice.

“Not Raven, but I can take a message.” A man slides out from under a car, and for a moment Clarke is puzzled. And then it hits.

“Oh, _you’re_ Zeke.”

Zeke raises his brows, sitting up on the floor. “You know my name?”

“I did meet you at the hospital all those months ago. And as if Raven doesn’t text you every five seconds or talk about you endlessly,” Clarke tells him, spilling the beans on her friend. Zeke’s eyebrows nearly fly off his head, and Clarke sees a bit of pink rise to his tanned cheeks.

“Really?”

“Mhm,” Clarke says, plopping down to sit next to him, “all the time. Literally, cannot get her to shut up.”

Zeke smirks a bit, and Clarke forgets all about her shitty mood about Bellamy. It’s been a week since their fight and she’s still not speaking to him. Frankly, she doesn’t want to. He hasn’t made an effort to speak to her either. She saw him for the first time in three days when she went home on her break, and it’s put her in a bad mood. He just scowled at her and she scowled back. It sucks, but she’s dealing with it. For now, she’s content to talk to Zeke.

She hasn’t met him again until now, and she’s eager to figure out why her best friend is so hooked on him. She hasn’t exclusively dated since Finn, and since Wick was such of a train wreck Clarke knows that she’s anxious about starting a relationship again. But with the way she talks about Zeke, it shouldn’t be long until her fears are soothed.

“Well that’s a relief,” Zeke huffs, and Clarke can’t stop herself from snorting.

“Yeah that’s probably a good feeling,” she teases, and a dopey smile graces his face. She sees what Raven sees in him. He’s not Clarke’s type, but he’s got nice eyes and his smile probably makes Raven smile, so she approves so far. And he was the one who got her off of that mountain when she tore her ACL, so Clarke’s approval rating is already sky high. “So, Zeke. Where are you from?”

Zeke wipes his hands on his pants and leans back on his palms. “Saginaw, Michigan. After I finished my last tour in the Air Force I decided I needed to get out of Michigan. Boston was the first place I thought of.”

“Why Boston?”

“National parks. I love to go hiking, and Boston has so many places to go, it was perfect.” And this man is perfect for Raven, good lord. “My family was here for a little, but they’ve moved back to Saginaw.”

“Do you miss them?” Clarke asks, genuinely interested in his life. If he’s going to be in Raven’s life, then she’s going to make an effort to get to know him. She’s going to do better than she has in the past

Zeke nods, “yeah, I do. But I call my younger siblings pretty often, so it works. Does your family live here?”

“My mom and stepdad live about an hour away,” Clarke tells him, and then adds, “only child. But Raven and Octavia are practically my sisters. I assume you’ve heard about Octavia?”

Zeke takes a deep breath and then huffs out a laugh. “Oh, not only have I heard about Octavia, I’ve met her. That girl comes flying in here almost every other day to talk about something.”

“Unsurprising,” Clarke laughs, and Zeke grins. “She’s a wildfire.”

“She scares me a little. Is that normal?”

Now Clarke snorts, because that is one-hundred percent normal. “Octavia was my first college roommate, and for the first two weeks I was so scared of her I thought she was going to abduct me in my sleep. And then she didn’t, so we’re good now. When she’s mad she’s really scary, though.” A trait both Blake’s have. Clarke’s stomach drops when she thinks about Bellamy, and she chews at her lip.

“How did you and Raven meet, exactly? She said it was a complicated situation but she never elaborated,” Zeke asks, picking up a cloth and wiping the remaining grease off of his hands.

Clarke’s eyes go a bit wide and she chokes back a laugh. “I think that’s a story for her to tell, not me. She tells it better.”

“Damn right I do,” says a voice from behind her, and Clarke turns to find Raven walking back into the shop. “Hey, Clarke.”

Clarke tips her head into a nod and grins at her friend. “I can’t believe you haven’t told him the story!”

“That’s my trauma, Clarke, he has to reach level three to unlock that,” Raven deadpans, and Zeke raises a brow.

“Exactly what level am I on?” He asks, amused. Raven smirks and crosses to him, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing lightly.

“Two and a half,” Raven teases and Zeke smiles softly at her. Clarke feels like she’s intruding on something very personal, and she has to look away.

She’s never seen Raven like this. She’s never been this into someone, or this dedicated to that person. She was dedicated to Finn, but this… this is different. It’s very clearly a romantic love, and Clarke is so, so happy for her. But she can’t deny that it kind of hurts. She’s been in this state of pure confusion and pain for months about Bellamy, and she wants nothing more than to be able to be with him like Raven is with Zeke. But she can’t. And that hurts a lot.

Raven interrupts her train of thought. “Clarke? Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what’re you doing here? I thought you had work today?”

“I’m still on call,” Clarke mumbles, shaking her head to clear her destructive thoughts. “They just let me leave for a little. I wanted to bitch about Bellamy, but—” She forces a smile. “It’s fine. I’m good. I haven’t seen you in a couple weeks.” Raven raises her brow, and looks incredibly skeptical, but lets the topic of Bellamy drop.

It’s been getting harder and harder to talk about Bellamy as her feelings get stronger and more painful. She hasn’t even mentioned to her friends that they got in not one, but two fights in the last two weeks. Clarke still finds the last fight painful to think about. She literally told him to go to hell. She can’t take that back. Sure, he said some shitty things too, but she can’t even bring herself to relive it.

She’s certain that her friends have picked up on it, but either out of respect for Clarke’s feelings or the fear of their friend group falling apart, they haven’t said anything yet. She’s grateful. It hurts a lot. She doesn’t know what to do.

So she pretends that nothing is bothering her, and spends the next hour until she gets called back into work getting to know the famous Zeke. It’s the best she can do.

* * *

 

Bellamy and Echo sit quietly in her living room, neither of them daring to say what needs to be said. Bellamy knows what he needs to say. But breakups fucking suck. Regardless of how weird the relationship has felt in the last couple of weeks. It’s awkward, and it’s not fun. He doesn’t think he wants to stay with her when she moves. He knows it would only end in more complications, and if he’s being honest, if he feels disloyal right now, there’s no way he won’t when she lives on the other side of the fucking world. It’ll be even worse.

Echo’s finally the one to speak. “So I’m moving to Nepal.”

Bellamy tips his head slowly into a nod, wringing his fingers together. “You’re moving to Nepal.”

She stares at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. “And you’re not.”

“I’m not,” he confirms, finding her eyes. “You know I can’t. My job is here. As cool as it would be to teach in a different country, it’s not what I trained for, and it’s not what I want. It’s not logical for me to go,” Bellamy says, watching her as she leans back in her chair.

“I understand,” she tells him, but her face says a different story. Bellamy’s eyes narrow as she masks her expression again. “You could never leave your people here.”

He clenches his jaw for a moment, and then nods. “It’s my friends and my family, Echo. I couldn’t just move to the other side of the world. There’s a chance I’d never see them again,” Bellamy says, thinking about all possible scenarios where something goes wrong. They could move from Boston. Something could happen to him in Nepal. He's grasping for straws, but he doesn't want to move to Nepal at all.

Echo stares past him out the window and the awkward silence settles between them. Her jaw ticks and Bellamy watches as the gears turn in her head before— “Will you always put them first?”

He’s taken aback by her comment and it takes him a moment to process. Will he always put them first? The immediate answer is no. But then when he thinks about it… yeah, he probably will. He cares for his friends immensely and wants to be here for their lives. He would miss them too much. He doesn’t want to even think about how much he’d miss his sister or… Clarke. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Not the time. Bellamy sighs heavily and then replies, “probably. But you know how important they all are to me.” It feels like they’re going in circles. It’s like he’s repeating the same things and she’s not understanding it.

Echo nods, but she still won’t directly look at him, and he’s fed up. “Will you look at me? Please just tell me what you’re thinking so we can figure this out.”

“What am I thinking?” Echo scoffs, her eyes finally whipping to his and Bellamy wants the ground to swallow him up. “I’m thinking that no matter how many times you say they’re important to me, you really mean two of them. And I don’t understand why.”

Bellamy tries, oh he tries to play dumb. “Which two?” She makes a face and stands and starts to pace. Bellamy watches her for a moment before sighing, “Echo.”

“I don’t understand because you sister has never made any indication that she wishes to get to know the person that you’re dating, and Clarke has been absolutely terrible to you in the last few weeks. So forgive me if I don’t get why they’re the two most important people in your life if they obviously don’t give a shit about you _or_ your life.”

If there was any shred of Bellamy that wanted to stay with her when she moved to Nepal, it’s gone now. It has been absolutely destroyed. Because yes, things with his sister and Clarke have been weird and bad for the last few months, but they give a shit about Bellamy’s life. He’s not certain on a lot of things, but he knows they care. He doesn’t realize he’s shaking with anger until his voice comes out shaky, “I don’t think you get to be the judge of who cares about me.”

Now Echo looks angry, and god, he does not want to fight with her. He just wants this to end. He takes a sharp breath as she speaks again. “Who gets to be the judge of that?”

“Me?” Bellamy suggests, gesturing to himself. “I know them a hell of a lot better than you do, so I really don’t think that you get to make that big of a judgement on them.”

“I’m just saying—” Echo starts, and Bellamy presses his fingers into his eyes. “Bellamy, I’m not blind.”

Now, his eyes snap up, and he feels so _guilty_. “I—” She holds up a hand and he stops quickly.

“I saw how angry you were when she came home that morning. You didn’t calm down for over an hour,” Echo tells him, and Bellamy rolls at his hands in shame. He’s not this person. This doesn’t happen to him, and it’s unfortunate that it did. “It’s okay,” she says quietly, “I’m not happy about it, in any sense of the word, but I think I’ve known for a while. It was only confirmed that morning.”

“I didn’t know—” Bellamy manages, and then stops and tries to find his words. Because truthfully, he didn’t consciously know. He supposes that maybe deep down he knew, but it wasn’t something he was willing to examine until recently. God, that only makes him feel worse.

“Maybe you didn’t, but you know now,” Echo tells him, disappointment seeping from her voice. “And I don’t really think it’s fair for either of us anymore. I don’t want to be in a relationship with a man who’s on the other side of the world and has feelings for his roommate. And I don’t get the vibe that you want to be in a relationship with me anymore either.”

The words hurt, but they don’t tell him anything that he didn’t already know. The truth is, he doesn’t want to be in a relationship with her anymore. He’d much rather take his chances with the brewing feelings for Clarke than get stuck in a one-sided relationship with a woman across the world. “I’m sorry,” is all he can manage.

“I know,” Echo grumbles, crossing her arms across her chest and Bellamy feels terrible about himself and what he’s doing to her. “At one point you may have had feelings for me, but I don’t think you do anymore. And truthfully, I think I deserve better than that.”

Bellamy nods and finally stands from his chair to move closer to her. “You do,” he agrees. “Echo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”

“Please do not apologize,” she says dryly, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’m not happy about how this happened.”

“Neither am I,” Bellamy admits, “I hate that it happened this way.”

“But it needed to happen,” Echo finishes, and Bellamy drops his head to avoid looking at her. “Just—don’t fuck it up. I’m gonna be even more pissed if we break up and then you don’t fucking do anything about it.” He can’t stop himself from snorting and gives her an apologetic smile. “Okay. So. This is it. Anything else you want to say to me before I hand you the bag of your stuff and kick you out of my house?”

Bellamy huffs out a weak laugh at her attempt of a joke and gives her another smile, this time more real. “Have fun in Nepal. I mean it. You’ve waited forever for this. You’re gonna be the best one out there.”

True to her word, Echo hands him a small bag with a couple of his shirts and kicks him out of her house. He can’t say he didn’t expect it. But breakups still fucking suck, even if he is nursing feelings for the person who was not his girlfriend.

Jesus. He needs a drink. Or fifty. 

* * *

 

Clarke spends very little time in the apartment in the two weeks following her fight with Bellamy. It helps that her work schedule is absolutely insane, too. She sleeps there and that’s honestly about it. 

She doesn’t want to look at him, talk to him, interact with him in any way. Clarke knows that she’s being childish. But he pissed her off and she feels disrespected by what he said to her. She assumes that he feels the same way.

She still sees him sometimes at home and sometimes when their friends go out to eat or to drink. But they don’t say a word to each other. None of their friends have said anything about it, despite the chill between them being very obvious. Echo is still around as far as she knows and Clarke finds it frustratingly hard to be nice to her. She’s seen her once since that first fight, and it’s so difficult to be nice to her. They’re not friends and they don’t even really get along when they’re forced to communication. It doesn’t help that Clarke is still half in love with Bellamy. Everything is just so discombobulated.

Raven _finally_ brings it up on wine night with Emori and Harper. Octavia’s at Lincoln’s and the girls have the apartment to themselves. They moved wine night this week to Sunday night because none of them worked on Monday, and Clarke is grateful for the break with her friends. Until now. “Okay that’s it. What the hell is going on with you and Blake? It has been two weeks and you two have not spoken a word to each other.”

Clarke rolls her eyes at his name and pours herself some more wine, because god knows she needs it. “We got in a fight and I’m still mad at him about it.”

Harper raises a brow. “You’ve got in plenty of fights before this. Why is this one the one that stops you from talking to each other?”

She huffs and thinks over the words she wants to say. No matter what she says, it’s going to make her friends angry. “We got in two fights,” Clarke clarifies slowly, chewing on her lip. “the first one was the night after Raven and I went out, and I went home with Niylah. He—fuck, I don’t know. He was angry, and I think he kind of shamed me for having sex for a minute there? He tried to fix it but the damage was done, and then he just kept saying he was worried about me because I don’t hook up a lot.”

Her friends nod, glancing between each other quickly as Clarke continues. “And the other fight was two weeks ago, after I slept with Roan.” Her girls nod and urge Clarke to continue. They know all about the Roan thing. It was Raven’s idea to hook up with him, to see if she could get something out of her system. It was good, but it honestly just made her feel kinda shitty after it was over. “He just kept going on about caring, and how he cares about me, and he’s worried about me. And then I said he didn’t seem to care when I was having the most miserable time the last few months.”

Clarke takes a breath and presses her fingers into her eyes, “and I know part of that is on me. I was directly avoiding him. I just keep going back to the face that he all of the sudden cared when I started hooking up with people. As if he didn’t do that when he was my age!” She grumbles, letting out a sigh. The words _this is what you do now_ bounce around in her head and then she gets angry again, and then upset.

“It’s just fucking stupid. I hate it, but I hate what he said to me and how he said it, guys. And I don’t even want to talk to him because he’ll just get mad at me for finally trying to get over him, even if he doesn’t know I’m trying to get over him.” She feels the familiar lump in her throat return, and she pushes it down.

 “This is…” Raven rubs her temples slowly, “fucking ridiculous.”

Clarke puts her hands up in a _what are you gonna do_ motion and picks up her glass again. “I’m just tired of fighting with him over something he shouldn’t even care about. It’s none of his business.” Clarke sees her friends exchange quick looks and she frowns. “What do you know that I don’t?”

Harper chews at her lip and sighs. “He’s jealous, Clarke.”

She scoffs instantly. “Jealous?”

“That’s the only reason why he would have been that upset. Especially both times you hooked up with someone else,” Harper reasons, and Emori nods quickly.

Clarke lets out a groan. “If you three hadn’t noticed, Echo is his girlfriend. He shouldn’t be jealous about what I’m doing when he has a girlfriend. I literally told him this, and he glossed over it. I don’t think that’s what’s going on,” Clarke reasons, taking another sip of her wine. But her thoughts are reeling. He shouldn’t, no, he _can’t_ be jealous of what Clarke’s doing. He is literally dating someone and has been for three months.

Raven and Emori look at each other again and then Raven sighs. “He’s still jealous of who you’re hooking up with.”

“And he shouldn’t be,” Clarke replies quickly, pouring more wine into their glasses. “He has no right to be jealous of what I’m doing or who I’m doing.”

“But he is,” Emori points out, “that’s the only reason why he reacted the way he did.”

“He was just worried about it,” Clarke counters and is about to say something when Raven’s phone rings. Raven stands and stumbles across the room to the counter, reaching over to grab it. She squints at it, looks towards Clarke with her brows raised and picks up. “Besides,” Clarke says, ignoring Raven and her knowing glances, “he’s dating Echo. It’s as simple as that. I’ve accepted that. I don’t have to like it, but I accept it.”

“You know she’s moving to Nepal, right?” Emori asks, and now Clarke’s brows go flying off of her head.

“ _What_?”

Emori nods, “yeah. She got an offer to work in the field over there. She’s accepting. She—” There’s a look between Emori and Harper, as if asking the question _who’s gonna tell her_? Then, Emori finally says the words Clarke has been dreading. “She asked Bellamy to go with her.”

Clarke can literally feel her heart shatter.

“What?”

“I don’t think he’s going,” Emori quickly reassures, and Clarke swallows thickly. “In fact I think he was a little angry that she asked him. But I figured that you didn’t know, and she leaves at the end of June, so…”

“So,” Clarke repeats dully. Of course she fucking asked him to move to Nepal. Of fucking course.

“Jesus, how much have you had to drink?” Raven says into the phone, and the three turn to face her. “No. We’ve had a few drinks.”

Emori shrugs when Harper looks at her and Clarke continues sipping her wine, prepared to down it if someone tells them they need to be picked up. She’s not looking to be a taxi service tonight.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Raven says quickly, looking at her friends again. Clarke raises a brow. “Bellamy—”

And the drink is gone quickly and Clarke reaches for the bottle again but Harper pulls it from her reach. “Nope, that’s enough.”

“You are no fun,” Clarke pouts but slouches in her seat as Raven approaches her. She is not drunk enough to have another in-depth conversation about Bellamy. That’s what they’ve been doing for the last two months. Her girls already know how she feels; she doesn’t want to dissect it any further than it already has been.

Raven mutes her cell phone quickly and turns to Clarke, not looking pleased about how this has turned out. “He wants to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk to him,” she replies simply and Raven rolls her eyes. “I know I can’t avoid him forever but I’m going to—”

“He is drunk and at a bar, and won’t tell me what’s wrong, but wants to go home. He asked for you, multiple times actually, and you both mother each other so much that you are probably the only person who can get him home safely,” Raven interrupts, her hand on her hip. Clarke cowers in her seat. Raven has finally snapped about the Bellamy situation.

Clarke eyes the cell phone like it’s gonna burst into flames. “I can’t drive, Raven. I’ve had wine so I could avoid driving.”

“You’re avoiding this.”

“Maybe I am.” Bellamy’s drunk voice comes from the phone and Clarke grimaces, slowly reaching for it. She can’t believe she’s doing this. But she knows that he’s in some sort of trouble, and she cares about him too much to leave him stranded. Care. There’s that fucking word again. She unmutes it and shoots a dangerous look at Raven before speaking. “Bellamy?”

“Clarke!” His voice is loud and very obviously drunk and she sighs, glaring at her empty glass of wine. “Is that you?”

“Mhm,” she responds, chewing her lip. “Are you okay?”

“I’m really drunk,” he mumbles, “and I tried calling you thrrreeee times, and you didn’t answer.”

Clarke digs in her purse hanging on her chair and finds three missed calls from Bellamy Blake, and a voicemail too. She makes a mental note to listen to it later. “I see that,” she mutters, “are you okay?” She repeats, drumming her fingers on the table. Her friends listen avidly and Clarke continues chewing on her lip until it bleeds.

“I need,” he starts, and she hears the phone shift, “I need you to come get me. They took my keys.”

She sighs, “I’ve been drinking too. Probably less than you, but…” Harper exaggerates rolling her eyes and Emori puts her head in her hands.

“You two are impossible,” Harper mutters, banging her head lightly on the table, and Clarke flips her off as she waits for Bellamy’s response.

“I need you,” he slurs, and she pauses. “I need your help.”

Clarke mutes the phone again and turns to her friends. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

Raven nods. “Probably. You’re still gonna do it, though.”

She unmutes the phone and sighs, making a split-second decision. “Where are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man, clarke really doesn't have a clue what she's about to walk into. also, bellamy's break up and wine night occur on the same night, so do with that what you will...
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! Come talk to me on Tumblr @clxrkeblxke!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! sorry for the wait, the first week of classes was a lot crazier than i anticipated! but now i've figured out how to handle my workload for the semester so hopefully this next week will go much smoother.
> 
> but here's the chapter! i don't have much else to say besides i hope you enjoy, and that the next few chapters are some of my favorites. my favorite is approaching and i can't wait for y'all to read that one!
> 
> enjoy!

So, thirty minutes later Clarke and a taxi are pulling up in front of a hole-in-the-wall bar. She pushes her way through the mass of people and finds Bellamy sitting on one of the bar stools, half a glass of water in front of him.

The bartender looks incredibly grateful as she gets closer. “Please tell me that the drunk man is yours.”

Clarke tips her head into a nod and tries to ignore the wording. “I’m here for him. I’m sorry for whatever he did or said. He doesn’t know what he’s saying when he’s drunk.”

The man nods in response, handing her Bellamy’s keys and eyeing him carefully. “I noticed. He tried to leave an hour ago but he wouldn’t have made it three feet. I’ll watch you two walk out.”

“Thank you,” Clarke says genuinely, before approaching Bellamy. “Hey.”

“Clarke!” His voice is loud, and considering it’s the first time she’s heard it in days, it kind of hurts.

She forces a smile at him. “Hi. Alright, let’s get you home.” Clarke helps him off of the bar stool and he leans heavily on her. “Use your feet, Bellamy. You’re heavy,” Clarke groans, putting an arm around his waist to help him walk. Their proximity sends a wave of dizziness through her, and she knows it’s not the alcohol. She was nearly instantly sober when she got into the taxi to come get him.

Bellamy groans but helps a bit and she tries not to wonder how he ended up in this situation. He hasn’t gotten this drunk in months, and when he does, it’s usually in the safety of their apartment. They stumble out the door and Clarke’s grateful that the taxi said he would stay and wait. “Into the car, Bellamy,” she says, as if she’s talking to a young child. It takes almost two minutes to get them into the car because he’s that drunk and she manages to stifle her grumble.

She gives the taxi their address and Bellamy babbles stuff to her about his week the entire drive, but she’s not really listening. He barely makes sense when he’s buzzed but now that he’s plastered she can’t string together anything he’s saying. It also doesn’t help that he’s talking about things so mundane like getting his paperwork from the office or printing out the finals that his students are going to take this week.

It takes another five minutes to get him up the steps to their second-floor apartment and into his room. She deposits him gently on his bed managing to get his head to his pillow. “I’m going to get you water and some Advil. You are going to be very hungover.” He protests as she leaves but she doesn’t care. He’s going to be miserable tomorrow at work if he doesn’t take measures tonight. She knows this from experience. God, she’s thankful she doesn’t have to work tomorrow; it’s gonna take her forever to recover from this experience.

Clarke enters his room again and hands him the pills and water. He downs it quickly and Clarke takes the glass from him. “Okay. Time for bed,” she tells him, preparing to leave, but his hand grabs onto hers tightly and she pauses.

“Where have you been?” Bellamy mumbles, managing to sit himself up to be closer to her height.

“Busy,” she responds simply, “work. Friends.”

“I thought _we_ were friends,” he huffs, falling backwards onto his bed. He runs a hand through his curls making him even more frustratingly attractive. She chastises herself for thinking about it. Not the time. “But we don’t talk anymore.”

“I’ve been busy,” Clarke reiterates, as she tries to pull a blanket up around him. He only shoves it off and sits up again.

“You don’t talk to me anymore,” he groans, “and I said things to you.”

Clarke freezes. “You did,” she whispers, wringing her fingers together. This conversation is veering into territory she does not want to broach, especially not when he’s incredibly drunk and she’s feeling incredibly vulnerable.

“And you got angry,” Bellamy says quietly, and Clarke chews at her lip.

“I did,” she tells him.

“I’m a dick,” Bellamy concludes, collapsing back onto his bed, “and I fucked up.” Clarke doesn’t say anything and instead reaches down to pull his shoes off of his feet gently. She puts them in his closet and tries to ignore how normal this feels. She shakes it off and pulls his comforter up again. “I fucked up _so_ bad, Clarke, and you won’t even _talk_ to me now.”

Clarke swallows. “You’re not going to remember this tomorrow, Bellamy.” She feels like she’s pleading for him to shut up, to stop talking. She wants this conversation to end.

“Yes, I will,” he retorts defiantly, but Clarke knows it’s a lost cause. She’s had one too many conversations with drunk Bellamy only for him not to remember it in the morning. “I’ll remember because I fucked up and I fucking miss you. I just wanna go back to normal.”

She diverts her eyes and closes his curtains, avoiding the hammer in her chest as he admits that he misses her. This conversation is physically and emotionally painful and she wants to escape. Clarke turns towards the door and sighs, giving in a bit. “If you remember this in the morning we’ll talk about it.” The only reason she says it is because she’s certain he won’t remember. “Okay? Your alarms are set because you have work tomorrow morning. It’s your last week of school. You can’t miss it.” Bellamy groans a bit and curls onto his side, pulling his comforter tight around him. Already fast asleep.

Clarke closes his door and sighs, pressing her forehead into it lightly.

Well, that hurt more than it fucking should have.

**Clarke** : home safe. he’s drunk.

**Raven** : figured he would be

**Harper** : any idea why?

**Clarke** : no. I think he tried to apologize but he won’t remember it tomorrow. no use talking to a drunk bellamy.

**Emori** : :(

Raven calls her when Clarke’s safe in her room. “What did he say?”

Clarke sighs and pulls her shoes and shorts off, putting the phone on speaker. “Nothing that intelligent. He said that he fucked up and I don’t talk to him anymore. That he misses me. And wants it to go back to normal.”

“He probably does,” Raven replies, “things have been really terrible between you two for weeks now.”

“Doesn’t make what he said hurt any less,” Clarke sighs, crawling to the head of her bed and putting the phone back up to her ear. “He won’t remember it tomorrow and even then it’s not like things can go back to normal. I can’t pretend I don’t feel things. I can be his friend but it can’t go back to how it was before.”

She hears Raven make a noise of annoyance. “God, you’re a weird cynical bitch.”

“Yours truly,” she responds bitterly.

“I think you talk to him tomorrow, if he remembers. And just see what he has to say.”

“I know you’re right,” she mumbles, “I just don’t want to.”

Raven huffs. “I know. You’re stubborn. But I think if you want to even be his friend still then you have to.”

Clarke and Raven spend five more minutes on the phone, discussing what happened at wine night after she left. She promises that she won’t leave early next week and then bids her friend goodnight. Clarke’s closing out her apps for the day when she remembers that Bellamy left her a voicemail.

She chews at her lip and her thumb hovers over the button. She wants to listen, but is it worth it? Will it only make her hurt more? Clarke stares at it as if it’s going to self-destruct, and then presses the _play_ button.

It takes a moment for her to understand the call. But it’s very clearly Bellamy’s voice, very clearly drunk. The background noises are muffled, which makes her think he wasn’t in the bar area when he called. “Clarke,” his intoxicated voice drifts out of her phone’s speakers. “Clarke, I miss you so fucking much. It’s not even funny. So much. It’s been like, a week, since you’ve talked to me and do you know how much that fucking sucks?” Clarke can barely dare to breathe.

“I said terrible things to you, holy _fuck_ ,” Bellamy grunts out, and Clarke is amazed at how many times the curse word can be used in different contexts. She had forgotten how much Bellamy curses when he’s drunk. “And you told me to go to hell which, that hurt, Princess, but I know you didn’t mean it. You were only pissed at me and that’s okay. I deserved it I think,” Bellamy slurs out, and Clarke continues worrying her lip. “but _damn_ , I didn’t think I deserved _hell_.”

Clarke manages a quiet laugh at his incredulous voice. Then, he groans in the voicemail. “God I cannot be this dramatic right now. I need to get a hold on my shithole of a life,” he grumbles, and there’s some fumbling on the recording. “Fuck. I just—fuck. Miss you. I know you don’t wanna talk to me ever again but I wanna talk to you but you’re probably going to ignore me for the rest of my life anyways. Also I’m super drunk,” she closes her eyes and lays back on her bed, letting his voice wash over her. God, she shouldn’t be this dramatic right now either. “Just—just call me please. I wanna talk about it. I wanna fix it, Clarke.”

And then the voicemail ends, and it leaves her with shaky thoughts and a confused heart. She doesn’t know what to make of it.

* * *

 

The next morning Clarke is up before Bellamy. She had already agreed to help Harper clean out her old storage bin, and she didn’t want to back out on her friend. Harper wanted to start early, and that’s the only reason why Clarke is up voluntarily at seven o’clock on a Monday morning. Clarke’s coffee is almost finished when Bellamy stumbles into the kitchen, his hands pressed into his eyes to block the light. He’s hungover, just as she predicted he would be.

Bellamy blinks when he finally realizes that he’s not alone. “Clarke,” his voice is rough and still filled with grogginess and Clarke swallows because dammit, that voice.

 “The one and only,” she replies quietly, taking her travel mug. He stares at her for a moment, as if he’s trying to find the words to speak, but then his mouth closes. Her stomach drops. He doesn’t remember their talk last night. He probably doesn’t remember her getting him home, him confessing that he fucked up and missed her. He _definitely_ doesn’t remember the voicemail. “There’s some coffee left,” she says, instead of everything else she wants to say. “You’re going to be late,” she adds as he continues to stand in his spot.

And then she’s gone, out to help Harper.

Harper raises a brow at Clarke’s scowl when she arrives. As soon as Clarke sees Murphy and Emori, she shuts down whatever emotion was on her face. She’s not looking to examine yet again everything that’s happened with Bellamy. Besides, she hasn’t seen Murphy in a while and wants to dick around with him.

But both Harper and Emori still raise their brows, and Clarke only shakes her head. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“But—”

“Guys, please,” Clarke pleads, glancing sideways at Murphy who looks a little confused. “Not today.”

Her two friends share a look and the Murphy speaks up. “Anyone gonna let me in on the secret? I wanna be in on the secret.”

“Some secrets aren’t for you, John,” Emori says fondly to him, but still casts a concerned glance Clarke’s way.

“But—” Murphy starts to protest, and this time it’s Harper who glares at him until he clamps up. “Okay. You don’t have to tell me now. But I find out everything. Sooner or later.”

Clarke manages a roll of her eyes at their friend’s words before turning to the storage bin. “Alright. How much crap do you have in there, Harp?”

The girl in question furrows her brow for a moment, before grinning sheepishly at her. “Well. It’s most of my college stuff. I lived out of state, Clarke, I stored everything in here.”

“Is this going to make you sentimental?” Emori asks as Murphy pulls open the door and the four of them stare into the storage bin.

Harper stares for another moment, and then shrugs. “Maybe? A lot of it’s probably trash, but some things. Anything involving us going out for sure.”

Clarke snorts and steps in first, immediately picking up a plunger. “Well I don’t think a plunger is going to make you sentimental, so might as well start there.”

The group spends a couple hours cleaning through Harper’s stuff, and Clarke desperately tries to keep her mind off of Bellamy. It works pretty well, especially with Murphy’s never-ending chatter about all of Harper’s things. He’s taken to mispronouncing the names of everything, and his pronunciation for the game Scattergories Categories left them all in tears for about five minutes. It’s helpful to have people who are actively taking her mind off of it, even if one of them doesn’t know there’s anything on her mind that needs to be taken off.

But she knows that Murphy isn’t stupid, so she suspects that he’s at least figured out that there’s something up, if not more. He doesn’t push it, though. That’s what she loves about Murphy. He never needs an explanation, he just accepts it and does what he can with that information. Part of her wonders if she should have been confiding in him about this the whole time.

Around eleven, Clarke gets a phone call from the hospital. Emori scowls at Clarke’s phone. “Don’t answer it. They can’t call you in if you don’t answer it.”

“They’ll keep calling,” Clarke groans, staring at her phone in hopes that it’ll combust. Her one day off for the next four days and they call her in. The ringing stops, and about a minute later, it starts ringing again. “See?”

“Man, and to think that we were gonna go get mimosas,” Murphy grumbles, and Clarke huffs out a laugh. They _were_ going to go get mimosas. She’s a little bummed that she can’t now.

And sure enough, she gets called in for one o’clock. They tell her that she can start her three day shift a day early at least, so there’s that at least. But still. She wasn’t prepared to have to go into work today.

Clarke gets another phone call about forty-five minutes later, after she’s gotten home and unfortunately without any mimosas.

This time, it’s Bellamy.

“I forgot my evaluations,” Bellamy says, the panic evident in his voice, “and I need to turn them in by 3:30, and my break period already passed. I need help.”

Clarke sighs and adjusts the phone on her shoulder. She chews at her lip for a moment before making her decision. “Where are they?”

He lets out a quiet breath and she can almost hear the relief. “On my dresser, next to the jar of coins.”

Clarke slowly drags herself into Bellamy’s room and tries to forget the conversation that went on in here not even twenty-four hours ago. Now that it’s daylight, she gets a proper look at it, and it’s so Bellamy. There are books scattered on his desk and his dresser, and there’s a painting of Greece on the wall. She’s been in Bellamy’s room before, but it’s different now that she knows how she feels about him.

“Clarke? Did you find them?” Bellamy voice jogs her memory as to why she’s in his room and she quickly grabs the folder.

“Yeah. I got them. I’m on my way.”

His voice is very quiet when he finally replies. “Thank you.”

So twenty minutes later, Clarke’s being checked into the school. She places the nametag with her name and the classroom she’s going to onto her scrubs and marches into the school. It takes her a while to find the classroom, considering she’s never been to Bellamy’s classroom.

Finally, she finds it and swallows. Clarke knocks lightly on the door frame and Bellamy looks up from his laptop, relief flooding his face. “Thank you,” he says, standing as she lets herself in, “thank you so much, you have no idea how much I needed these.”

“It’s no problem,” Clarke responds, shouldering her bag a little bit. The awkwardness radiates between them and Clarke swallows before glancing around his classroom. It’s the first time she’s ever been in here, and this room too is so _Bellamy_ that it almost hurts. There are posters and pictures of world history plastered all over the place, but there’s one complete blank wall and Clarke stares at it for a moment, curiosity finally winning the best of her. “The rest of your room is filled with stuff. Why is this wall empty?”

Bellamy shuffles on his feet as Clarke turns around, and he ducks his head for a moment. “I uh, I actually wanted to ask you about that. I wanted to put a timeline on the wall. Paint it on a big sheet and hang it up. I was gonna ask you but the last few months…” he trails off, and Clarke’s face burns as she realizes what he was going to say. They’ve been on thin ice with each other for the last few months, especially the last few weeks. “Clarke?”

“Hm?” She hums, still staring at the wall and already wondering how many events she could fit onto a sheet the size of the wall. Her mind is spinning and she wants to do this, despite how difficult things have been for the two of them in the last few weeks. Because she cares about Bellamy and wants to help him. Spending time with him wouldn’t be a bad choice either. Even though she knows she shouldn’t.

“I wanted to apologize,” Bellamy starts, and Clarke spins on her heel to face him again. “For the last few weeks and last night.” Her face burns again because oh god, he _does_ remember.

“You remember last night?”

Bellamy shrugs, tugging on the hem of his jacket. “Bits of it. I remember you getting me home,” oh good, _of course_ he remembers that, “and I’m pretty sure I said stuff to you but it’s all kinda fuzzy.” Her phone with the voicemail sears a hole in her scrub pocket. That voicemail is for her ears and her ears only.

“Well obviously I got you home safe,” Clarke mutters and he frowns for a moment.

“Thank you for that, by the way, but I wanted to apologize for what I said to you after you got home that morning after going out. It was uncalled for, childish, and immature. It wasn’t my intention to make you feel badly about it, and if I did I’m very sorry. And if that’s,” Bellamy swallows thickly and for the first time he can’t meet her eyes. “If that’s what you want to do, then I support it.” For a split second, it looks as if that’s the last thing he wants to do. But then his face contorts back into his normal, apologetic Bellamy face.

Clarke stands stunned for a moment. Not only did she get a drunken apology, she got a sober one too. All in the span of twelve hours. She doesn’t know what made him change his mind about everything, but she doesn’t care. What he said pissed her off and hurt her more than she’ll ever tell him, but he genuinely looks so guilty that for a moment that anger slips away. The moment turns into two moments, and then three.

He stares at her pleadingly, and then takes a breath like he’s going to say something else. But he pauses again, and Clarke searches his expression for any anger or doubt lingering, but finds nothing.

She makes her decision. She hates being mad at him. She hates being at odds with him. Despite how weird things have been between them for the last couple months, she still misses him. He forgave her when she screwed up with Lexa, it’s only fair that she forgives him now. Clarke wonders if that’s why they’ve made it so far with each other. Forgiveness.

But she knows that she needs to apologize too. For a couple things. She tips her head into a nod and chews at her lip. “I forgive you. What you said sucks and it hurts but I appreciate you apologizing. I’m tired of being mad at you,” Clarke confesses, remembering his words to her when they finally made up after her mistakes earlier this year. “I’m sorry too,” she continues, and his eyebrows jerk up in surprise. “For telling you to go to hell. I didn’t mean it, I don’t want you to go to hell. I was just mad at what you said to me. And—” now she pauses, because what she has to apologize for next veers into dangerous territory. “And I’m sorry for being distant the last couple months. There’s just been some stuff going on, and it’s been hard.”

Clarke doesn’t want to elaborate, but Bellamy asks the question anyways. “Are you gonna tell me what’s been going on?”

She shrugs, and now she’s the one to divert her eyes. Because she can’t exactly tell him that she’s been avoiding him because he has a girlfriend and she’s half in love with him. That would cause so many problems in their friendship, and since everything is so fragile she doesn’t want to make it worse. “Someday,” is what she finally says, and for a moment, it looks like he’s going to argue with her. “I promise.” Well, now she can’t avoid it forever.

But Bellamy takes that answer, and looks down at his shoes again. “I don’t like it when we’re mad at each other,” he says quietly, slowly finding her eyes again. She gets it. She hates it when they’re angry at the other. It just happens sometimes with them, even about the most mundane things. It kind of hit a tipping point this time, but she knows that they’ll always find their way back to each other.

“I’m gonna work on it,” he says after they’ve stared at each other for a moment, “on proving that I’m sorry.”

“I know that you’re sorry,” Clarke mutters, “you look like you’ve just drowned in your own guilt.” Bellamy cracks a smile and Clarke manages one back, feeling a little lighter than she did this morning. “I’m gonna work on it too. I’m gonna try to be around more.”

Bellamy nods and slowly crosses the room to give her a hug. Clarke practically melts into his embrace, and she can’t even find herself to be embarrassed about it. She noses into the junction of his shoulder and neck and nearly cries when he whispers, “home’s been lonely without you.”

They’re gonna have to work on it, and she’s gonna have to work on accepting Echo into her life, however long she’s in Bellamy’s. She’s missed him too much to argue with that. 

* * *

 

She only finds out that they broke up halfway through her shift at the hospital.

She’s been here for a day so far, and it’s been the longest day. Her phone starts buzzing around noon on her second day, and she’s too busy to check it until later in the afternoon.

**Raven** : did he tell you

**Harper** : this is more important than ur job clarke answer us

Clarke raises a brow and quickly taps out an answer

**Clarke** : did who tell me what

**Octavia** : im poppin BOTTLES idk about you guys

**Clarke** : ??

**Raven** : bellamy and echo broke up

She nearly drops her phone in the sink.

Clarke stares at the phone in shock for a moment, and tries to think of a response, but it’s like her mind has gone blank.

**Raven** : sunday afternoon

**Raven** : also Octavia shouldn’t you be upset that your brother has just gone through a breakup?

**Octavia** : I mean like it sucks break ups are terrible

**Octavia** : and I will be there for him if he needs it

**Octavia** : but

**Octavia** : that woman was not the best for him. maybe she was a good person but I don’t think she was right for bellamy

**Octavia** : BC CLARKE IS RIGHT FOR BELLAMY

Clarke still is not processing any of this. Sunday afternoon. _Sunday afternoon_. She picked him up from the bar Sunday night. Was he so distraught from the breakup that he nearly drowned himself in alcohol? Was he that into her?

**Harper** : and I know that ur probably asking clarke but I think it was mutual. I think he brought it up and then she ended it

Okay, maybe he wasn’t that into her. The woman is moving to Nepal. Maybe they only broke up for practical reasons. Maybe they’re still into each other but they had to break up. Fuck, she’s gonna throw up.

Raven calls seconds later. “Yo, are you dead?”

“If I’m not dead yet then I’m really close,” Clarke responds, still in shock. Fuck, he and Echo broke up. She can’t process the words, and part of her is scared to process the words. “What do I do Raven?”

Her friend is quiet for a moment before— “Wait, did he not tell you?”

“No,” she says quietly, suddenly feeling very small. “I saw him Sunday night, and yesterday morning and he didn’t bring it up at all.”

There’s another moment of quiet on the other line. “Oh. I for sure thought that he would have told you.”

“He didn’t. Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

Clarke hears the phone shuffling around on Raven’s end and she chews at her lip. Millions of emotions are running through her, some good and some bad. Elation that he’s not in a relationship. Guilt that she’s happy about that. “I don’t know,” Raven says. “Are you going to ask him?”

“No,” she says instantly, “if he wants to talk about it he will. Even though I’m dying to know what happened. It’s none of my business until he wants to make it my business.”

“Mature answer for someone who’s been pining after him and his dick for the past three months.”

“Fuck off.” 

* * *

 

Bellamy watches as Clarke makes a microwave dinner. She looks nearly asleep on her feet, her hairs thrown up in his birds nest of a bun, and her scrubs are wrinkled, but she still looks _good_. He doesn’t know how the fuck that’s possible, if he had just gotten off of a two day shift he would not look that good. Bellamy shakes his head. He cannot be doing this already, he just broke up with his girlfriend a week ago.

He still hasn’t told Clarke.

He assumes that she knows. Word travels fast in this friend group, and once he told Octavia it probably spread like wildfire. The guys want to get together at the bar on Wednesday and no matter how many times he tells them that he doesn’t need it, they still insist. He guesses that that’s what friends are supposed to do.

Bellamy catches himself watching her and takes a breath. “Echo and I broke up.”

Clarke freezes for a moment, before slowly turning to face him. Her face is unreadable. “Oh?”

“I figured you knew,” he replies, lumbering into the kitchen to grab a beer. “You were around more,” he offers, and Clarke won’t meet his eyes. She has been better about being around more, but part of him wonders if that’s just because she found out what happened.

“I’m sorry,” she tells him, and her voice sounds sincere. “Do you—do you want to talk about it?”

Bellamy shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. “I think I’m okay. It’s been a week. I’ve processed it,” he tells a little white lie; there was nothing to process. He knows exactly why they broke up. But he can’t tell her that.

Clarke nods, turning back to the microwave to get her dinner. “Can,” Clarke pauses. “Can I ask what happened? If it’s not too much trouble.”

He leans against the counter and sets his beer down before crossing his arms over his chest. “She was moving to Nepal, and I wasn’t.” For a moment, that’s all he’s going to say. But the urge to confide in her is too strong, so he manages a little more. “Things had been weird the last few weeks, and then she said some things and neither of us wanted to be in the relationship anymore.” That’s all he says. He can’t tell her anything else. Especially because he knows how she’d react to his proclamation that they broke up because he caught feelings for his roommate. That would end in disaster. For multiple reasons, many of which he doesn’t want to think about.

“It was mutual?”

Bellamy nods and she turns around again, and he finds an odd expression on her face. It’s almost like she’s trying to conceal an emotion that’s been trying to escape for ages. He decides not to puzzle over it, and speaks up. “Yeah. I knew it was gonna come to that eventually. Better now than in a week when she moves.”

Clarke leans against the counter next to him. She chews on her lip for a moment, staring absentmindedly at the wall. “I’m sorry,” she says, sincere. Clarke finally looks at him. “Breakups are no fun.”

He shrugs, mostly because he only felt sad for a couple days. He feels fine now, but he understands the sentiment. The only relationship that he really felt terrible after was Gina, but that was because he was terrible at relationships back then. He supposes that the only reason he feels okay now is because he knows that there are feelings all over the place.

“You wanna watch a movie?” Clarke asks suddenly, jogging him from his thoughts. “I’ll even watch one of your documentaries. Your choice.” Bellamy raises a brow, and smiles lightly.

“Yeah?”

Clarke gives him a small smile, and oh boy. “Yeah. I’m sure there’s one on Netflix that you haven’t seen.”

“Unlikely,” he tells her, following her into the living room and falling onto the couch. They don’t sit like they used to, with her legs thrown across his, but he supposes that even sitting with her at all is good enough.

* * *

 

“I told you guys I’m fine. I don’t need all of this,” Bellamy grumbles as he sits down with Miller, Murphy, Monty and Jasper at the bar. “Really. It was bound to happen and I’m fine.”

Monty, Jasper, and Miller roll their eyes and stand up to go order their beers, but Murphy stares at him for a second, as if he’s trying to read Bellamy’s mind. Bellamy raises a brow. “What?”

“I’m just trying to figure something out,” Murphy says, and Bellamy makes a face. “I just don’t get it. You were kinda nuts about this girl two months ago and then she moves to Nepal and you don’t bat an eye?”

Bellamy shrugs, trying to keep the emotions off of his face. It is too soon out of a relationship for him to be thinking about another girl he might be into. “It just wasn’t gonna work,” he finally says, playing with the corner of a napkin. “That’s all. I wasn’t interested in moving to Nepal, and she wasn’t interested in long distance.” Okay, another white lie. He thinks he can afford a couple right now.

But Murphy still doesn’t look convinced, as he continues to stare down Bellamy. “Uh-huh. So, let me get this straight. You’re into this girl, everything’s good and fine and dandy, and then—”

“Where are you going with this, Murphy?”

His friend smirks a bit, “I just know a lot more than you think I do. I have eyes everywhere.” Bellamy fidgets under his gaze. This man is really good at finding out things that he’s not supposed to know. That freaks him out a little bit. “I just don’t get where you’re going with this long-winded explanation of why I should be sad.”

Murphy shrugs a bit, and grins again. “I’m just saying. Something doesn’t add up. And I know that it doesn’t have anything to do with Echo, because I’ve seen you after a breakup and you’re never this calm. So, let me just be the first to say that I knew it first.”

“Knew what first?” Bellamy asks, curious as to what the hell Murphy’s talking about. He wonders if it has anything to do with Clarke, but there’s literally no way that anyone can know anything about that. He didn’t know anything about it until two weeks ago.

“It,” Murphy says, and Bellamy snorts a bit.

“You’re the most cryptic asshole I know.”

“It’s my brand,” Murphy replies dryly, grinning when Monty slides him a beer. “Just know that I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bellamy and clarke ain't slick, murphy knows everything
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clxrkeblxke!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! the next couple chapters are filled with bellarke goodies and i cannot wait for everyone to read them!! obviously i have to finish writing them lol but like, i'm gettin there. most of next chapter is written, so hopefully that'll be up soon!!
> 
> enjoy!

The day that Octavia comes over looking incredibly lost is the day that he knows something is up.

But he doesn’t push, because she hasn’t pushed him the last few weeks, despite the fact that he knows she wants to know how he’s doing after the Echo thing. Truthfully, he feels fine. The relationship didn’t have much left to it at the end anyways, and his heart was obviously in another place, so nothing is really wrong. But it’s nice not to be bugged about his love life for once.

The two sit on the couch watching a rerun of Full House, something that they watched all the time when they were children. That was the first indication that something was off. The second was that Octavia nearly jumped out of her skin when they turned on the TV and the episode was Jesse and Becky’s wedding.

But he’s not gonna push it. Even if he has an idea of what’s going on. Even if he doesn’t like it.

They get through three episodes before Octavia finally speaks into the silence. “So.”

“So,” Bellamy echoes, not turning his head from the screen.

“Lincoln asked me something today,” she says conversationally, and Bellamy’s heart nearly jumps out of his throat. Fuck, did he already ask? There’s no way, there’s no ring, he couldn’t have asked… “he didn’t ask me to marry him, stop panicking, Bellamy.”

He huffs and turns to face his sister, swallowing a bit of his fear. “What did he ask, then?”

Octavia hesitates, pulling on the tips of her hair like she does when she gets really anxious. “He asked if I’ve thought about it. Like, getting married to him.”

“Have you?” Bellamy asks as calmly as he can, even though his stomach is starting to roll.

She nods slowly, finally turning to face him. “Not like, in depth. But it’s a thought that’s crossed my mind a few times. And we’ve talked about it, a little,” she says quietly, “but nothing too serious yet until the last couple months. And I want to marry him, Bellamy.”

“Oh,” he replies, trying to get a grasp on his emotions.

Because yes, he is happy for his sister. He’s happy that she’s found this person that she loves and that he loves her too. He’s happy that she wants to get married to him.

But she’s his baby sister.

“And I know that you’re freaking out right now—”

“I am not freaking out.”

“You have your _oh fuck_ face on, Bellamy.” Octavia tell him, and Bellamy scowls. “It can’t be that much of a shock. We’ve been together for four years, five in October. It was bound to happen. And I want you to be okay with this, because you’re my brother, but I don’t think you are.”

Bellamy doesn’t say anything. He’s not angry about her wanting to get married. He did expect this. But she was all that he knew for such a long time before and after their mom died. It’s just going to be weird, and different, for things to be different.

Because even while she’s been dating Lincoln, she’s still been present. She’s still been a very constant person in his life, and after she gets married… would that all change? She wouldn’t live with Raven anymore, because she’d live with Lincoln. She wouldn’t just pop in anymore. He knows that he wouldn’t lose his sister, but what if he does?

Octavia won’t need him anymore, and that shouldn’t stress him out, but it does. They’ve always relied on each other, and suddenly it’s like they won’t.

“Okay,” he starts, “maybe I am freaking out. You’re my little sister. I’m bound to freak out when she tells me she wants to get married,” Bellamy rambles, trying to save the conversation so he doesn’t have to talk about what’s really bothering him. “But I am happy for you. And it’s—it’s great. That you want to marry him. Really. Just—I want to talk to him before it happens.”

“He’s already mentioned that,” Octavia says quietly and Bellamy swears that his heart drops to his stomach. Fuck, he’s already planning things. Bellamy has less time than he thought to get ready for this ginormous fucking change.

“Good,” Bellamy says sharply, desperately trying to find a way to change the subject. Avoidance is the best way to handle this. Shit, he’s turning into Clarke. “Well, that’s good. Are you staying for dinner?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Cool, he says quickly, standing up and moving towards the kitchen. “What do you want?”

“Bellamy.”

But he only raises a brow, and Octavia deflates a bit. “What do you have?”

* * *

 

Clarke slaps her hands on the table and Bellamy starts. He raises a brow. “You good?”

“Let’s go get donuts.”

Bellamy snorts a bit and checks his watch. “Clarke, it’s three o’clock in the afternoon on a Wednesday. No donut shops are open right now.”

She smiles mischievously, and goddammit if that smile doesn’t get his heart going. “But Krispy Kreme is.”

“Krispy Kreme?” Bellamy asks, leaning back in his chair. “The nearest Krispy Kreme is an hour away.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “So? Once Raven, Octavia, and I drove two hours for cupcakes. Why wouldn’t I do that for donuts?”

Bellamy stares at her for a second, her excited face, and finds that he suddenly wants to go get donuts. It has nothing to do with the grin on her face, or the sparkle in her eye. But he sighs dramatically and stands up to grab his keys. “Alright. Let’s go get donuts.”

Clarke nearly squeals with happiness and he feels his heart speed up at her contagious laughter. By the time he’s slid into the driver’s seat of his truck and she’s in the passenger one, he doesn’t know how he was even opposed to this. He tosses her his phone. “Give me a route.”

“I knew you couldn’t resist,” Clarke hums happily as she connects his phone to the old rinky dink Bluetooth connector he has in his truck. It’s too old to have an actual Bluetooth connection, or even an aux, but Octavia gave him this weird contraption two years ago and it’s worked like a charm. She holds it out to him to unlock and he quickly taps the numbers in. “Okay,” Clarke says, chewing on her lip as she puzzles over the map. “This route says an hour and five minutes. Perfect. Do you want me to give you gas money?”

Bellamy shakes his head and waves off her offer as he backs out of his parking space. “Nah. Just buy my donuts and we’ll call it even.” Clarke flicks his shoulder and he smirks as they pull out onto the street.

They settle into a comfortable silence for the first part of the trip. Things are still getting better between the two of them, and he’s found that silence is a good thing for them. They’ve talked about their issues, and neither are willing to rehash them. Both of them are making their amends and they’re getting back to where they were before this entire mess started. Bellamy doesn’t know when the entire mess started, but he’s just happy it’s over.

Bellamy’s thought drift back to his sister as they cross the halfway point. He’s happy for her, really. It’s just hard to grasp the idea that his sister is going to be married. It’s even harder to grasp the fact that she won’t need him anymore.

Octavia has never admitted to needing him, or maybe she hasn’t this whole time, but it’s just odd knowing that once she’s married, Lincoln’s gonna be her go to person. The two of them are close, so it’s not like they’ll never see each other again, but he just knows that he’s going to miss her.

“Stop thinking so hard,” Clarke breaks into the silence, and he jerks his head to find her brows raised at him. “California can hear you thinking.”

Bellamy makes a face at her and she only grins, resting her feet on his dash. “They cannot.”

“Mhm,” she hums back, before glancing at him again. “You wanna talk about it?”

Bellamy lets out a sigh and scrubs at his face slowly. “There’s not really anything to talk about. Have—” he pauses, because he doesn’t know if Octavia has told the girls what’s been going on. “Have you talked to Octavia recently?”

Clarke chews at her lip and nods, and that’s how he knows that she knows. “Yeah. I have.”

“So you know then.”

She nods again. “I do. I assume she’s talked to you?” Bellamy’s silence is her answer. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Clarke repeats, and Bellamy struggles to find a way to articulate what he’s feeling.

“I don’t know. I mean, I know I want to talk about it. But I just—I don’t know to say it.” Clarke nods, and waits for him to attempt to get his thoughts out. “It’s not, fuck, it’s not that I’m angry she wants to get married. I had expected this. I’m ecstatic that she wants to get married! It’s just—it’s just weird. My baby sister getting married. I know she’s not a baby anymore,” Bellamy rambles, “but she’s still my little sister.”

“That’s fair,” Clarke agrees. “Is it that she’s younger than you and getting married before you?”

He shakes his head quickly. “No, I know it’s not that. I always knew she’d get married before me,” Bellamy tells her, and glances at Clarke who’s staring thoughtfully out of the windshield. He knows he’s not ready to get married. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to. To get married means he’d have to be in a relationship and… nope. Not going there. “I dunno. You know I have this really weird need to protect everyone I care about, right?”

Clarke scoffs a bit, but her tone is teasing. “Yeah, that’s why everyone calls you mother hen.”

This time, he flicks her shoulder and Clarke giggles a bit. His heart does something funny in his chest at the noise. “I guess it’s just me knowing that I’m not the one protecting her anymore? Now it’s gonna be Lincoln. I know it’s not true, but it feels like she won’t need me anymore.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke says quietly, her eyes finding his for a second before he looks back at the road. “Your sister is always going to need you. It might be in a different way than she needed you before, but you’re always gonna be her big brother. Lincoln might be the first person she goes to, but you’ll always be the person she knows she can count on one-hundred percent of the time. If she needed you and you were across the country you’d find a way to get back.”

“Okay, I’m crazy but I’m not that crazy.” Clarke raises a brow, and Bellamy forces a scowl, but the corners of his mouth turn upwards anyways. “Okay, maybe I am a little overprotective. I grew up that way. My mom told me my sister, my responsibility, and she’s been my responsibility since the day she was born. It’s why I put off college for a couple years. It’s why I lived in the shittiest apartment the entirety of my first two years of college. It hasn’t been as prominent in recent years, but it’s still something that I like, religiously follow. And now it’s like suddenly she’s not my responsibility. And now she’ll be Lincoln’s. And that’s really hard to process for me.”

Clarke nods and he waits for an answer. “How long has it been since you talked to her about this?”

Bellamy racks his brains trying to remember when Octavia was over. “Uh. Last Monday, maybe?”

The blonde nods again. “Did you tell her all of this?” He sinks in his seat. “Do you think it would help if you talked to her?”

He scowls. “Oh, like you’re a master at confrontation.”

Clarke sticks her tongue out at him. “I’m trying to get better at that.” Bellamy snorts and Clarke gets more comfortable in her seat. He tries not to notice her legs as she curls them under her. It doesn’t work. “I know you two usually struggle to communicate issues, but this isn’t going away, and honestly, it’s not really an issue. You’re taking it just like an older brother would take it, Bellamy. So your feelings are completely okay. But I think that you’re gonna have to tell her, so you two can figure it out before she gets married.”

Bellamy taps his fingers on the steering wheel and sighs. “I know I have to talk to her, but—” He stops. “I dunno.”

“I know you dunno,” Clarke tells him. “It’s gonna get weirder, and weirder if you still haven’t accepted it when Lincoln comes and asks you for your blessing.”

Bellamy nearly crashes his car and he braces his arm across Clarke just in case. Clarke takes a sharp breath as Bellamy guides them gently back into the lane. “Note to self. Don’t talk about important things while you’re driving,” Clarke says quietly, and Bellamy cracks a smile. She squeezes his hand as he pulls it back to the steering wheel.

He knew Lincoln would probably ask. He literally told Octavia that he wanted to have a chat with him before he proposed. But fuck, hearing it put in those terms has really thrown him for a loop.

“Your sister is always gonna need you,” she reiterates. “It might be in a different way now, but you’re always gonna be family.”

Bellamy knows that she’s right. It’s just so, so hard to grasp. But he says, “thanks, Clarke.”

“Any time,” she tells him, and they go back to silence for a minute, as Bellamy mulls over her words and the fact that his _baby sister is gonna get fucking married._

“Did you ask me to go get donuts only so you could talk to me about the Octavia thing because she made you?”

Clarke scoffs a bit. “No,” she says, and he raises a brow. “Okay, she asked me to talk to you. But I just wanted donuts. And to spend time with you.” Clarke nearly whispers the last part, almost as if she doesn’t want him to hear it. But oh yeah, he hears it.

Bellamy coughs. “Good. Good.” He’s quiet for a second, and they both stare out the window. “You helped. It’s gonna be a process to accept it, but you helped.”

“I’m glad,” she says with a smile, and he could kiss her right now.

About thirty minutes later, they pull up to the Krispy Kreme and Clarke is nearly ready to jump out of the moving car. “Clarke,” Bellamy laughs, slowly pulling into a spot. “Calm down.”

“There are donuts thirty feet from me, you cannot get me to calm down,” Clarke replies happily, sliding out of the car. Bellamy laughs and follows her quickly, holding open the door for her. He presses a hand to the small of her back as they enter the store and he watches as her eyes whiz around the donut shop. He’s pleased when her face lights up with a smile and something that can be considered a blush.

“How many should we get?”

Clarke puzzles over that for a moment. “Two dozen.”

Bellamy’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “Twenty-four donuts? When are we gonna be able to eat twenty-four donuts!”

She rolls her eyes and watches as the donut machine pumps out row after row of glazed donuts. “You forget that our friends hang out in our apartment like it’s theirs. You know if we came all this way for Krispy Kreme and didn’t get enough for them they’ll be bitter about it for weeks.”

“Okay, you’re right, but twenty-four donuts?”

“What about thirty-six?”

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “Your eyes are bigger than your stomach.”

“And you have no faith in me,” she teases and Bellamy grins at her.

“I thought I was the one who had the most faith in you.” He’s missed this. The playful banter that comes so easily to them. He didn’t suspect that their friendship would come back so easily after the shit it’s been put through recently, but Bellamy’s been pleasantly surprised. He’s not going to complain either. Despite the constantly growing crush that he has on Clarke, he’s glad that their friendship is getting repaired over everything else. He’ll take that over nothing.

“You forget that I’m the one paying,” Clarke hums, sliding over to the booth with the fancier donuts. “So, the question is twenty-four or thirty-six?”

In the end, they compromise, and get thirty donuts for them and their friends. They speculated that Murphy and Miller alone would be able to eat a box by themselves, but Clarke drew the line at forty-eight donuts.

The pair sit at one of the tables, and Bellamy teases Clarke for wearing the Krispy Kreme hat. “I’m gonna wear this the whole way home,” she laughs, adjusting it on her head. “It’s gonna be fantastic.”

“You won’t.”

“Says who?”

“Me,” Bellamy laughs, finishing off his second donut. “You’ll be too embarrassed to wear it once we get closer to home.”

Clarke sticks her tongue out at him and he only grins. “I think I look fantastic, I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t want me to wear it.”

He rolls his eyes. “Look, you do look fantastic, but we know people in Boston.” Her cheeks go pink at his words and he feels very warm in his chest. _He_ made her blush.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I’m still gonna do it,” Clarke mumbles, ducking her head. Bellamy smiles at her for a moment, before whipping out his phone.

“At least take a picture of this. Gotta document it,” Bellamy says and she adjusts her hat on her head and picks up a box of donuts. He snaps the picture quickly and fuck, she’s so cute. He takes another one when she isn’t ready and _fuck_ , she’s cute in that one too. Clarke grins at the pictures before packing up their donuts to get back in the car.

True to her word, she wears it the entire way home. And when she falls asleep and it slips off of her head, Bellamy only gently puts it back on. He avoids all of the potholes in the roads, both for her and for the donuts.

* * *

 

“Okay. How many events do you want on this thing?” Clarke asks, staring down at the gigantic sheet that’s currently on their living room floor. School starts up again in a week, and Bellamy finally asked her about doing a little art project. Clarke happily agreed and immediately pulled out all of her paints and paintbrushes. She’s had little time to paint in the last few months, so she’s glad that he needed this completed. And she’s happy to help him, and spend time with him, too.

Bellamy cocks his head at it and squints at the list on his computer. “Uh. Well I had my students from last semester create a list of events that they thought were important enough, but the list is 100 events long. There’s no way we can fit 100 events on this, is there?”

Clarke shakes her head slowly. “I don’t think so. Unless,” she grabs a pencil and drags it up and down the sheet quickly, “unless we loop it like that? I don’t know how detailed you want each event to be, so it would make it difficult to make it detailed but you’d get all of the events on there.”

“It’s a big sheet,” Bellamy says, standing next to her to look down at it. “Surely I can fit fifty. Right?”

“Depends on which fifty,” Clarke tells him, slowly picking up his computer and skimming the list quickly. “Wow, your kids must really like Greek history because I’m seeing a lot of it on here. Do you really need,” Clarke scans is quickly for a ridiculous one, “the event about how Greek citizens literally could get voted off of the island?”

Bellamy scowls, but he’s fighting to keep himself from laughing. “Hey! 10th graders love that fact. It’s a dependable fact.”

Clarke can’t stop herself from smiling, and laughing a bit. “You’re a _dork_.”

“That’s why I’m a history teacher, Clarke,” Bellamy laughs back, poking at her stomach to make her squeal. Things have been so easy with him now. They worked on their shit for most of the summer, and it feels normal again. It’s easy.

It’s not easy pretending that she doesn’t want to kiss all over him and drag him into bed, but she hides it well. For the most part. Once he caught her staring at his mouth, but she played it off well. It’s getting increasingly harder to ignore anything about him now.

“Clarke,” Bellamy jogs her thoughts, “can you help me narrow this?”

They spend about half an hour figuring out which events Bellamy wants. It could have taken less time, but he went off on a tangent for nearly every event and Clarke was too endeared to stop him. She also just likes hearing him talk, and his voice, and pretty much everything about him. Especially the excitement in his eyes as he talks about history.

Nerd.

By the time they’re finished though, she’s itching to paint. Clarke knows that he just wants the events written on the timeline, but Clarke isn’t simple when it comes to artwork. Even if this is just being hung in his classroom, everyone’s still going to see it. So she draws the line of the timeline carefully, looping it around the sheet until it’s reached the bottom. She traces over it with black paint slowly as Bellamy writes out the shortened versions of the events. It’s quiet work, but she doesn’t mind. Spending time with him in any capacity is wonderful.

“Okay,” he says, setting down his computer on the coffee table. “You have better handwriting than me.”

“You want me to write it out?” Clarke asks, and Bellamy nods. “You trust me enough with this? It’s like, your child.” Bellamy rolls his eyes and tazers her waist, getting a half-laugh, half-scream out of her. He snickers as she tries to swipe him with the paintbrush. “You ass.”

Bellamy sticks his tongue out at her. “No, but seriously, I want you to write it. You’re the artist.”

“This is handwriting.”

He rolls his eyes. “Just do it, Clarke. You’re good at this.” She flushes and ducks her head quickly to stare at the sheet.

“Okay. Hand me the blue paint and brush.”

Because Bellamy’s a massive nerd, he wanted to color code each event for what it means. Red is for war, green is for migration, and blue is for a new civilization. Again, a _massive_ nerd. But Clarke thinks it’s cute, and honestly it probably will help his students, so she goes along with it.

The next thirty minutes are spent in relative silence, besides music playing in the background. Clarke writes out all of the events slowly and carefully, and Bellamy reads through them to make sure the dates are correct. Then, they start to paint. Bellamy does the dates, she does the descriptions. It works.

There’s an occasional comment about an event, or something that’s going on in the world, but Clarke is too enthralled in her work to talk much. She wishes that she had more time to paint. She’s been working crazy hours at the hospital, and considering she was avoiding her home for much of the past few months, she hasn’t really been doing it. But doing this project with Bellamy is helping a lot. She wonders what it’d be like to paint him. Both on a canvas and on his skin. _Fuck_.

She’s working on writing the last words _Present Day_ when it happens. “Hey, I think it’s done. Can you give me the red to touch up the—” Slap. Red paint drips down her cheek. Clarke gasps and her mouth drops open as she puts her hand to her cheek. It comes away red, and Clarke turns slowly to Bellamy who has the most mischievous grin on his face. “Oh, you’re on.”

Bellamy smirks as she stands with the blue paintbrush, but then his eyes glance at the sheet. “Wait. The sheet.”

“You couldn’t have thought about that before you slapped a paintbrush down my face?” Clarke teases, and Bellamy rolls his eyes before the two of them carefully pick it up and lay it across the kitchen floor. “Okay, now you’re on.”

“You’re going down, Griffin,” Bellamy laughs, but he turns his back and—slap! Blue paint down the back of his shirt.

“Maybe you’re the one going down,” Clarke responds with a grin, and Bellamy pauses for a moment. Then he lunges for her and Clarke shrieks before dancing out of his grip and back to the living room.

She reaches down for the green paintbrush and Bellamy grabs the black one and they circle for a minute. Clarke thanks god that she had enough sense to cover their furniture before starting. Somehow she _knew_ they’d end up here.

Bellamy moves first, swiping a line of black down her arm and Clarke gets his neck with the green. He laughs as she crawls over the coffee table to get away from him but then isn’t laughing when she gets his cheek. “Paint does not taste good, Clarke!”

But she only laughs at him, her laugh stuttering when he flicks more paint at her face. “Bellamy!”

“Paint doesn’t taste good,” he teases back, and then she flicks paint at him, getting specks of green and blue all in his dark hair. Bellamy retaliates by running his paintbrush on the top of her head.

“Hey!”

He snickers and gets around her and she misses his chest, nearly getting paint on the wall. Bellamy reaches for her and gets an arm around her waist before pulling her to him. Clarke’s back is pressed to his chest and for a moment it’s like they’re both frozen. She can’t breathe. He’s so fucking close.

And then he ruins the moment and paints all over her front, red and black going everywhere. She tries to fight back, and she thinks that she gets his shoulder a couple times, but Clarke’s laughing too hard to know if her efforts are really working.

“What in the flying fuck is going on?” A new voice says, and they both spin to face the door. Jasper and Monty stand at the door, both with highly amused expressions on their faces. Bellamy releases her waist quickly and Clarke nearly whines.

“A paint war,” he says, but Clarke still hasn’t caught her breath from the combined efforts of Bellamy being close and the running around.

Monty and Jasper look at each other for a moment before Monty looks back at them. “Dibs on the blue.”

And the war continues, laughter all over the living room. Clarke thinks that her cheeks are stuck in a permanent smile.

* * *

 

“I think you’re both fucking stupid,” Raven grumbles, dropping herself into one of the bar stools by the counter. “Like honestly, it is painful obvious that you both just want to fuck each other, so like, you might as well just do it.”

“Raven,” Clarke hisses, a flush rising to her cheeks. She glances down the hallway to find Bellamy’s door still tightly shut. He disappeared in there to shower after work and Raven immediately got started on her daily nag of Clarke’s feelings. Bellamy’s been back at work for three weeks now, and Clarke fucking misses him. It’s not like they spent the entire summer together, but she’s gotten used to him being a constant presence in their apartment. She’s forgotten what it’s like when he’s at work.

Raven rolls her eyes. “What? You know it’s true!”

“No,” Clarke says stubbornly, “he probably doesn’t want to fuck me.”

“Uh-huh,” Raven says, very unconvinced. “Yeah, he also wants to date you.”

Clarke huffs and turns around to face the fridge to find some fruit to eat. “He does not. Look, just because I’m half in love with him doesn’t mean that he is with me.”

“Are you sure you’re only half in love with him?”

“Half in love with who?” Clarke freezes at Bellamy’s voice, and she drops her apple on the floor.

She hears Raven fumble for words as Clarke tries to get her pulse down. Fuck, did he hear all of that? Did they ever say his name? Is this about to get out? Raven recovers first. “There’s just this new guy at the hospital, right Clarke?”

“Mhm,” she manages, turning around with something that she hopes looks like a smile. And then her stomach drops because _dammit_ , why does he always look so good? His hair is still messy from his shower and he’s shaved and fuck, she feels that familiar pull in her gut because dammit, she wants him. “Yeah,” Clarke pushes out, when Raven’s eyes widen wildly at her, “yeah, he’s a new resident.”

Bellamy tips his head into a nod and narrows his eyes before ducking his head. “Right,” Bellamy coughs, and Clarke still can’t tear her eyes away from him. “Are you gonna do anything about it?”

Raven answers for her. “Nope, she’s not,” she says quickly, grinning brightly at Bellamy, “she’s not even gonna _talk_ to the resident.”

For just a moment, it looks like Bellamy relaxes, his eyes glancing towards Clarke’s before dropping again. Raven watches in disbelief for a moment, her jaw slack, before finally hopping up from her seat. “So! Clarke you said you had something to show me in your room so let’s go!”

Clarke nods and forces herself to move her feet. Bellamy catches her elbow gently, and she raises a brow. Her stomach flutters, goddammit. “You good?”

She tips her head, “are you?”

Bellamy nods slowly, and then glances down the hallway where Raven has just poked her head out. He goes to say something, but Raven’s voice carries loudly. “Clarke! I’m not getting any younger!”

Clarke shrugs a bit and forces a smile. “Duty calls.”

He laughs a bit before letting her go, the awkward radiating between them heavily. Clarke gets back to her room and leans against the closed door slowly. She lets out a slow breath. “You two are impossible,” Raven grumbles, flopping back down onto Clarke’s bed. “You’re both pining idiots.”

“We are not,” Clarke replies, pushing herself off of the door and to her bed. She lays down next to Raven and together they stare at the ceiling. “He’s just—I dunno. It’s not pining, it’s—I don’t know.”

“It’s pining.”

Clarke whacks her friend in the face with a pillow and Raven snickers. “It just—it just sucks being half in love with him and not knowing if anything is ever gonna happen.”

Raven studies her for a moment, before sitting up and repeating her question from the kitchen. “Are you sure you’re only half in love with him?”

“Of course I’m only half in love with him,” Clarke starts quickly, still facing the ceiling, “I would know if I—” Then she pauses. Because _oh fuck_. She feels the blood drain from her face and she sits up quickly, staring at Raven in disbelief.

“There it is,” is all Raven says, and Clarke presses her hands into her eyes with a groan. Perfect. Just what she needed. Unrequited, in love pining.

“Oh, god.” Clarke groans, grabbing her pillow and shoving her face into it. “I’m going to smother myself.”

“ _Do not_ ,” Raven wrestles the pillow out of Clarke’s hands. “Look. I’m pretty certain that he feels something for you, too, you dumbass.”

Clarke scowls. “Raven, I’m in love with him. What am I supposed to do?”

“Something,” she emphasizes, “I literally don’t care what but you deserve to let yourself be happy in a relationship. And I think that you find that happiness with him. It’s just a matter if you get off of your ass and do something about it.”

“I can always count on you to get me moving,” Clarke says dryly, flopping backwards.

She’s in love with Bellamy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as if we didn't already know that
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clxrkeblxke!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is pure cotton candy. that's it. it's tooth rotting. i have no regrets at all i love this chapter and i hope that y'all do too.
> 
> i have a good portion of the next chapter written too, so that should be up soon. enjoy!!

On the first day of October, Octavia calls him and asks if he wants to grab dinner Thursday evening. Bellamy agrees, even though he knows what’s coming and what conversation he and his sister are going to have to have.

It’s been a little while since they had the first chat about her getting married, and he’s been thinking about it a lot. It practically never leaves his mind most of the time. It’s been mentioned a couple times, but there hasn’t been an in-conversation about it. He’s talked about it with Clarke, and a little about it with Murphy, but it feels like he’s just going in circles with how he feels. He’s happy for her, but doesn’t want to lose his little sister.

He doesn’t know how to articulate that to Octavia.

Thursday comes far too soon and the week has beaten him up. His students are an absolute train wreck this semester, even a few weeks into the semester. It’s October and they’re all acting like a bunch of children. They’ve always been a mess at the beginning of the year, but never like this.

Bellamy pulls up to Octavia and Raven’s apartment and taps his fingers on the steering wheel as he waits. He’s anxious. He shouldn’t be anxious, but he’s freaking out. Because he knows that logically he’ll feel better about it all once he talks to her again. But fuck, his little sister is gonna get married. She’s gonna be engaged soon, probably. His stomach churns a bit. That’s a little scary.

Octavia hops into the car quickly and gives him a bright grin, and he easily returns it. “How’s your week been?”

Bellamy rants about his class the entire drive to their favorite restaurant, and Octavia listens and responds appropriately. “You know I love my job,” Bellamy continues tiredly, “I have more troublemakers than usual.”

“Maybe they found out that you’re a troublemaker and wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine. You were not the easiest student to teach,” Octavia jabs playfully and Bellamy shoves her lightly.

“Oh, like you were a saint in high school? _I_ could barely wrangle you in high school, your teachers didn’t have a clue what to do!” Octavia smiles happily and he can’t keep the grin off of his face. “I know it’s gonna get better, but I’m so tired of having to tell every kid off every five seconds.”

“It’s like you’re with our friends constantly.”

“Exactly, but worse.”

Octavia’s quiet for a second before she grins and Bellamy knows that he’s about to get interrogated. “Speaking of our friends,” she starts, “a little birdy told me something.”

“Uh huh.”

“Something about you and a certain blonde,” Octavia muses, and Bellamy can literally feel her eyes boring holes into his head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His sister scoffs. “He told me you’d say that.”

Murphy. He’s gonna kill him.

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bellamy tells her innocently, and Octavia rolls her eyes. Murphy’s the only one who knows anything about his crush on Clarke. Well, _crush_ is probably not the correct word anymore. He’s very rapidly falling down the hole called _Reasons Why I’m Falling in Love with my Best Friend/Roommate Clarke_ and that hole is slowly growing larger than the hole called _Reasons Why I Can’t Have my Best Friend/Roommate Clarke_. But still.

He knows that Murphy would never out him intentionally, because that’s the kind of friend he is, so it must have just accidentally slipped out to Octavia recently. Which means now it’s gonna get out. He just hopes it doesn’t get to Clarke, because he knows that would cause so many more problems for them to have to work through.

“Oh, you know,” Octavia mutters, and now Bellamy makes a face. “Listen, Bellamy, I’m just saying—” She pauses and puzzles over her words. “I think it’d be good. You two are good for each other in a lot of different ways. I know I’ve always been critical of who you’ve been dating or interested in, and I’m not just saying this because she’s one of my best friends. I’m saying it because I mean it. You two have come a long way, and I really think it’d be good.”

Bellamy sits stunned for a second as he pulls into the restaurant. His sister has never been so encouraging of a possible relationship. He figures it’s because it is Clarke, and personally yeah, he thinks they’d be great for each other. “Thanks, O,” Bellamy starts, clearing his throat. And then, because he’s obligated to say something negative, he says, “it’s probably not gonna happen, but I appreciate the support.”

Octavia whips off her shoe and whacks him with it so quickly Bellamy barely has time to blink. “Bellamy Blake are you fucking blind?”

“What the hell Octavia!”

“I mean, damn, I knew your vision was shit, but you really are a blind bitch!” Octavia yells and the two of them stare at each other outside of the restaurant. “She’s—you two!—Ugh!”

“Will you spit it out?”

“She is so beyond into you! I don’t know why _I’m_ telling you this, you fucking live with her! Have you just like, not noticed?”

“There’s nothing to notice,” Bellamy replies stubbornly, even though he can’t deny the spark of hope in his stomach. Is she into him? What makes her think that? He’s been paying hyper-attention to her, but everything seems normal. Normal except for the fact that he literally wants to drag her into his bed and never leave, but, details. “Besides, I overheard Clarke and Raven talking and there’s some guy at the hospital that she’s into.”

Octavia looks at him like he’s the dumbest person she’s ever met. “You two are fucking impossible. There is _not_ a guy at the hospital! They’re just throwing you off the scent because—”

Bellamy takes a sharp breath and pushes the thought of Clarke out of his head, which is fucking impossible to do. The idea of her with someone else, again, makes his stomach churn, but Octavia saying it was a fluke helps a bit. “Can we just go inside and eat dinner? Enjoy ourselves for once?”

She narrows her eyes at him but then nods. He knows this conversation probably isn’t over.

The chat stops while they get settled in at the restaurant. They’ve just ordered their food when Octavia opens her mouth again. “If you’re gonna nag me about my nonexistent love life—”

She kicks him under the table. “I’ll nag you some other time. But I wanted to talk to you about Lincoln. Again. Because you’ve avoided it every time I try to talk about it.”

Bellamy deflates a bit because now they’ve finally reached what they came here to talk about. “It’s not that I’m avoiding it. I just don’t know _how_ to talk about it, O. You’re my little sister. It’s weird to think about.”

“Y’know, if you had _healthy_ communication skills—”

“Oh, fuck off,” Bellamy says, but he’s hiding a grin. “Our family is shit at communication.”

“We really are, it’s a miracle we’ve all made it this far,” she muses, reaching for her wine. “But seriously, Bell. Just talk to me. This is not going to get better unless you tell me what’s going on.”

Bellamy swallows. He’s been caught in the net. He has no choice. “I’m happy that you’re happy,” he starts, fiddling with his napkin. “I really am. I’m glad that you have him, even if I couldn’t stand him when I first met him. I guess it’s just—It’s just the fact that you won’t need me anymore. And I know that that’s so childish, but my whole life you’ve been my responsibility, even when you hated me for that year when you were in high school. And now you’re not gonna be my responsibility. I guess you haven’t been in a while, but it’s still just… it’s a hard pill to swallow, for me.”

Octavia frowns a bit and plays with the tips of her hair again. “Bellamy. You know I’m always gonna need you, right? There are things that Lincoln doesn’t understand. Both of his parents are still alive, and they’ve been present his entire life. Mom is dead, and my dad decided he didn’t want me before I was even born. He doesn’t understand that like you do.”

Bellamy nods slowly and waits for her to continue. “And yeah, I might not be your responsibility anymore, and truthfully I haven’t been for a while honestly, but I’m—I’m always gonna need my older brother. It’s a big change. I’m freaked out by it too, even if nothing’s happened yet but it’s a change that I want in my life, and I want you to be okay with that change.”

“It’s just a lot to process at once,” Bellamy tells her, and she nods in understanding.

“I get that. It’s a lot to process for me, too. But Lincoln and I have talked about it, and whenever he proposes I want to have a longer engagement. Several months at least, just because we both have work stuff to get figured out and we have to find somewhere else to live. So we’ve all got time,” she reassures, and Bellamy nods slowly. It’s not perfect yet, but at least he’s not feeling the urge to vomit about her getting married anymore. “Now can we talk about something else before this gets too sentimental? It’s not our style.”

Bellamy snorts, “deal.” 

* * *

 

“It’s your turn to pick,” Clarke says, handing Bellamy the remote. “I picked last time.”

Bellamy nods and takes it, scrolling though Netflix. “Well yeah, that’s usually what happens when it’s someone else’s turn to pick,” Clarke makes a face and settles into the cushions, a fair distance from him. She’s still feeling odd around him, mostly because things have felt weird between them. Not bad… just weird. There’s this weird energy, as if there’s a ball that’s ready to drop but it’s still suspended in the air. She really doesn’t know how much longer she can handle this. She thinks that she’s going nuts.

“I got it,” Bellamy says and Clarke focuses on the screen.

“Oh, please tell me you’re kidding, Bellamy!” The TV shows the description for _Sinister_ and she scowls. “You know these movies are the worst!”

He immediately starts to protest, “come on, this is a good one! They do everything right and still don’t make it! It’s one where you do everything that you’re supposed to do and things still don’t go well. If it’s that bad we’ll turn it off,” he finally tells her gently, raising a brow at her fright. Not her fault she doesn’t care for horror movies.

“It is your turn,” Clarke finally huffs, tucking her feet under her and grabbing a blanket from the top of the couch. “Fine. Turn it on. You better not turn off the lights.” Bellamy laughs but he does it anyways. Her scowl deepens.

“Have a bit of fun, Princess,” he says, resting his feet up on the coffee table.

“Horror movies are not fun,” she replies, “comedy movies are fun. Horror movies are horrifying.”

“Isn’t that why they’re called horror movies?” She whacks him with a pillow and he tries to hide a goofy smile, but it doesn’t work. She rarely sees that smile from him, so she’ll accept the horror movie for now.

So Clarke gets stuck watching _Sinister_ at eight o’clock at night when it’s very dark outside. She’s not happy about it, clearly, but at least she gets to spend time with Bellamy. She loves doing that. The movie starts and she’s already gritting her teeth because she knows that nothing good can come from any of it.

“If my kid ever says that they’ve made a new friend and they live on the ceiling then we’re fucking moving out _immediately_. None of this ‘oh I don’t believe you’ bullshit, we are _gone_ ,” Clarke huffs and Bellamy snorts.

“See, that’s the thing. They tried that. And obviously it still doesn’t work out so well.” Clarke rolls her eyes and tries to concentrate on the movie but it’s practically impossible. She wants to know what happens but she’s also terrified about what’s going to happen. Her eyes are plastered over her eyes and Bellamy only grins. “This is terrible. We are so watching _Wonder Woman_ after that so if a demon comes into my room I can fucking fight it off.”

“Wonder Woman’s gonna help with that?” Bellamy asks, stifling a laugh and Clarke sticks her tongue out at him.

“Wonder Woman makes me feel like I can fight a million men barehanded, it’s definitely gonna help me fight a fucking demon.”

Bellamy laughs and runs a smoothing hand over her shoulder. His touch startles her and she takes in a sharp breath, but he doesn’t move away. Ever since the Krispy Kreme trip she’s become more aware of her… physical feelings towards Bellamy. While he was dating Echo she did her best to push them down, but now that he’s single and has been for five months it’s nearly impossible ignore the pull towards him.

It’s quiet for another few minutes until Bellamy shifts, and removes his hand from her shoulder. “You want any popcorn?”

“I think I’d just throw it everywhere. Or throw it up,” she grumbles, but Bellamy pauses the movie anyways and goes to make himself some popcorn. “Can you grab me some tequila though? I have a feeling this is only going to get worse, no thanks to you!”

She hears his laughter from the kitchen. “You do not need tequila, how are you going to fight the demon?”

“Maybe I fight better when I’m drunk.”

Bellamy pops his head out and goddammit, with the kitchen light projecting around him he looks fucking magical. His smile is bright, and his laughter is happy when he says, “yeah, I’m sure. I’d like to see you try.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and smiles down at her lap while he rummages around in the kitchen. She fiddles with a string on the blanket. She’s itching to be closer to him. She wants to bury her face in his chest and ignore the movie that they’re watching so she can focus on the feel of him. But she can’t do that because they aren’t together.

Bellamy comes back from the kitchen and sits closer to her, resting the popcorn in the small space between them. “You’re a liar and you love popcorn,” he says in response, “I know you’re going to ask for some anyways. You also don’t need tequila.” Clarke rolls her eyes but curls back into the couch cushions. When she reaches for popcorn a minute later, Bellamy only smirks smugly.

And then she notices that one of Bellamy’s arms is across the back of the couch, his hand brushing against her shoulder again. She’s certainly not going to complain.

At some point, Clarke jumps so hard that the popcorn spills over and they spend two minutes giggling as they pick it up from the couch cushions. She’s not sure who ended up moving closer first after they picked up the popcorn, but suddenly she’s pressed into Bellamy’s side with the blanket draped over both of them as _Sinister_ continues.

He doesn’t seem like he minds one bit, and instead only tugs her closer after another jump scare. Clarke’s practically in his lap she’s so close to him, but there’s no way in hell that she’s gonna move away. The feeling of his body next hers is too good, and dammit he smells so good. Bellamy’s thumb rubs across her shoulder absentmindedly, and he laughs into her hair when she groans about this being _the worst movie ever_. She could _swear_ that he kisses her head.

Damn. Bellamy Blake is turning her soft.

Then, it’s the most intense part of the movie and Clarke is actually intrigued, so her eyes are glued to the screen. Her fingers wring together and she chews at her lip anxiously. “Bellamy they’re all going to die. Are they all going to die? Tell me if they’re all going to die.”

The man next to her on the couch only chuckles a bit. “Y’know, if you watched the movie you’d know.” His hand slides down from her shoulder to her waist, and a jolt runs through her so quickly it’s like she’s been struck by lightning. Fuck, his _hands_. Jesus. She has got to get a hold on herself.

“You know I hate not knowing the answers,” Clarke mutters back, and he snorts and this time squeezes her waist lightly, and fuck, if she wasn’t already a goner she’d be spiraling.

“This is the one time you aren’t allowed to know the answers,” Bellamy murmurs back, resting his cheek on her head. “Just watch the movie.”

Clarke huffs and does her best to turn her attention back to the movie but she’s a little… distracted. After a minute or so, her beating heart calms down and her body gets used to having Bellamy this close. She’s finally able to concentrate again.

But then there’s a jump scare and then their front door busts open and then she’s screaming and Bellamy’s shouting and there’s popcorn all over the place as they flail around. Bellamy ends up in front of her, as if he’s going to protect her, and then Clarke hears Murphy and Emori’s hysterical laughter.

“You should’ve,” Murphy chokes, doubling over, “seen the look on your faces, _holy fuck_ , I’m gonna throw up.” Bellamy crosses the room quickly and whacks him on the side of the head, frowning.

“You dick,” Bellamy says sternly, but it’s obvious that he’s trying and failing to keep the grin off of his face. “You nearly killed Clarke! Look at her, now she has anxiety.”

“You’ve ruined me, Murphy,” Clarke replies dryly, flipping her friend off. “Busting in here like you own the place.”

Emori finally stops laughing and shoots Clarke a happy grin. “John, please tell me we got that on video. _Please_.”

“It’s not on video but it will be permanently pasted in my memory,” Murphy replies, pretending to wipe tears of mirth from his face. “Good god.”

“I thought it was a fucking demon,” Clarke complains, and their friends only snicker. “A demon’s going to come attack me tonight and the last thing that you two would’ve done to me is scare me out of my skin.”

Emori rolls her eyes at Clarke’s words. “A demon is not going to kill you.”

“I’m gonna have to hold séance now, no thanks to you,” Clarke grumbles, and Murphy snorts.

Bellamy runs a hand through his hair and pauses the movie. “No offense, but what are you two doing here?”

Murphy makes a face, “my car broke down literally down the street. I was taking Emori home and it just stopped all of the sudden. I texted you, but you didn’t respond and now I see _why_ ,” Murphy says, very pointedly glancing at the couch. Bellamy fidgets for a second and Clarke diverts her eyes to Emori. Bad decision, because Emori only smirks and waggles her eyebrows. Clarke feels her cheeks go pink.

Bellamy groans for a second, but then makes up his mind. “Shit, yeah, lemme help. I’ll be back in a minute, yeah?” He says quietly to Clarke, just to Clarke, and she nods a bit. Bellamy smiles before following Murphy out.

“It,” she hears Murphy say loudly. “ _It_.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Bellamy responds gruffly, shoving their friend down the hallway lightly.

Now it’s just Emori and Clarke, and Emori looks like Christmas has come early. “Girl, you look fucking _wrecked_.”

Clarke feels herself go even pinker, and Emori smirks. “Emori this is so hard. I just wanna fucking—kiss him and, fuck—”

“That too,” Emori notes, and Clarke tosses a kernel at her. “Just jump him, I’m sure he won’t stop you.”

“But would he want it?” Clarke grumbles, collapsing onto the bar stool next to Emori.

Her friend scoffs. “Did you—did you _see_ the way he was holding you?”

“I’m very aware,” Clarke responds dryly, remembering the feeling of Bellamy’s hands on her waist. Oh, Jesus.

“Uh, yeah, you don’t hold a platonic friend like that.”

Clarke sticks her tongue out at her friend. The last thing she wants is to be a platonic friend to him. She wants to be a romantic friend. Fuck, she wants to be in a relationship with him. She wants to do all of the cheesy rom-com shit with him and all of the normal, relationship stuff. She wants the good days and the bad days. The exciting ones and the boring ones. She’s in love with him and she wants to _tell_ him. That’s all she wants. 

* * *

 

Clarke has always loved Halloween. She’s not a huge fan of scary movies, but she loves the cheesy scary movies. The ones that are so old and technically should be scary, but aren’t. She loves that it’s autumn and that it’s getting colder and that the holidays are getting closer.

But this year on Halloween, she is unfortunately rendered unable to move because of severe, body-splitting cramps. She was supposed to go to Emori and Harper’s with everyone else to pass out candy and watch classic Halloween movies, but she can’t even get off of the couch. And she’s out of tampons, so basically, she’s having the best day ever.

She hears the front door open and nearly groans when the light from the outside streams in. “What the hell?” Bellamy grumbles, fumbling around on the wall for the light switch, and this time Clarke does groan. “Clarke?”

“Hi,” she murmurs, pressing her face into the pillow.

“Are you okay?” Bellamy’s voice is frantic, and she nearly laughs at his concern. But that would hurt too much.

Clarke hmphs into the pillow, finally turning to face him. His brows furrow, and he waits. “I’m crampy,” she finally grumbles, “and I’m out of tampons and life is a black hole.”

Bellamy can’t stop himself from laughing at the end of her statement and Clarke wants to kick him, but she knows it would probably make her cramp more. “I can go get you some?” Now her brows furrow. He huffs a bit, sitting down on the edge of the couch and slowly running a hand up and down her back. Clarke’s eyes flutter closed at his gentle touch, and she lets out a slow breath.

“Are you sure?”

“Oh, come on. I am not afraid of a tampon, Clarke. Let me help you,” he says gently, soothingly sliding his hand across her shoulder blades. “Considering you probably can’t stand right now—”

Now she really does kick him, and he snickers a bit. “Kidding. I’ll go get you some. Stay put, yeah?”

“Like I can go anywhere,” she grumbles miserably, and he squeezes her shoulder gently. Thirty minutes later, he’s calling her. “Not scared of a tampon, huh?”

“No, I am not scared of a tampon,” he grumbles back, and Clarke manages to crack a smile for the first time in what feels like hours. “There’s just—Clarke there’s so fucking many of them. Like, which one do you need?”

She groans and rolls back onto her side, trying to find a comfortable position. It’s been two hours and her pain medicine hasn’t kicked in yet and she’s ready to rip her body apart. Usually they aren’t this bad, but she switched birth control, and everything is out of whack. “Just get me the smallest box.”

“Do the smallest boxes have the smallest tampons?”

“Didn’t you buy tampons for Octavia when she was growing up?”

Bellamy lets out a groan and she hears the phone shift. “Kinda. Mom was still alive when Octavia started so it wasn’t all of the time. By the time she got it figured out Octavia was buying most of her stuff.”

“Just get me the smallest box, Bell,” Clarke murmurs and she hears the phone shift again.

“Jesus Christ, why are tampons so fucking expensive?”

The woman trapped on the couch groans again, pressing her fingers into her eyes. “I will pay you back just please—”

“No, it’s not that,” Bellamy says quickly, “I don’t care if you pay me back. You needed help but you didn’t ask to have a period? This must be horrible, like you really have to do this every month?”

Clarke would find this conversation endearing if she literally wasn’t absolutely dying. Because of course _Bellamy_ would be the one to talk about how unfair periods are. That’s such a Bellamy thing to do, and fuck, she can’t help but think it’s cute. “Look, you’re adorable and all but I really need those tampons. So can you pretty please just buy them and I’ll get you dinner or something sometime this week?”

There’s a long pause before—“you think I’m adorable?”

Clarke’s cheeks flush even though he can’t see her and her stomach flutters a little bit at the soft tone of his voice. Her voice nearly comes out strangled, but she clears it quickly. “Yeah, you’re my knight in shining armor. You’re the best, Bellamy.”

Twenty minutes later, Bellamy’s home and rummages in the bag for the box. “Here. You need anything else?”

“A nap,” Clarke deadpans, finally managing to sit up as Bellamy tosses the box her way. “Thank you. You really are a saint.”

She could swear that his tanned skin flushes a bit. Clarke practically crawls to the bathroom to get herself situated and she’ll admit that she feels a little better now. But a nap before seeing their friends would be appreciated.

Once back out in the living room, she finds Bellamy grading on the couch. “Can I take a nap?”

“I dunno, can you?” She scowls and curls into the corner of the couch. Bellamy cocks his head at her for a moment before waving her over. “C’mere.”

“What?”

“Take a nap.”  Her brows go up as he places a pillow in his lap, and she waits unsure for a moment. “C’mere,” he repeats gently, his eyes liquid soft, and she can’t find it within her to resist. It takes Clarke a second to get situated, because fuck, this is a new step in their relationship, and he rubs a soothing hand on her shoulder. The other holds up the paper he’s grading. “Get some sleep,” Bellamy murmurs, “I’ll wake you when it’s time to go to Harper and Emori’s.”

“Thanks, Bell,” Clarke murmurs, and she drifts off within minutes.

* * *

 

Clarke finally starts to come to right after Charlie Brown and the Great Pumpkin starts. Bellamy cords his fingers through her hair and listens to Raven and Shaw trying to stay quiet in the kitchen. Harper and Emori both started throwing up with the stomach flu about an hour ago, and there was no way in hell he was gonna risk getting sick. He loves his friends, but Bellamy _hates_ the stomach flu.

The blonde that’s resting her head on his lap shifts a bit and groans. He pauses his hand in her hair before scraping his nails gently onto her scalp. “Have a good nap?” Bellamy murmurs, and Clarke blinks her eyes open slowly. She rubs her hand over them and turns a bit to face him, and Bellamy only smiles. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she replies, soft. Clarke shifts again slowly, and he helps her sit up. His heart grows three sizes when she rests against him, tucking her legs underneath her. Charlie Brown just got a rock for Halloween. Bellamy noses into her hair for a moment, and she drops her head against his shoulder. “Are we still going to Harper and Emori’s?”

Bellamy shakes his head and adjusts himself on the couch. “They have the stomach flu. Raven and Shaw are here, though. They’re carving a pumpkin in our kitchen.”

“They’re gonna make a mess of our kitchen,” Clarke grumbles, and Bellamy snorts. She’s so cute when she’s just woken up. Her eyes are still a little blearily and her hair is a little tangled, but she’s still the most beautiful woman.

“Do you wanna get up and supervise this, or should we just let chaos happen?”

Clarke smiles into his shoulder. “We should probably supervise this.”

He nods a bit and listens to Raven’s voice as she shouts, “Zeke! You’re doing it wrong!”

“We should definitely supervise this,” he agrees. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” Clarke tells him, wrapping her cardigan around herself as they make their way into the kitchen. “What is Zeke doing that’s wrong?”

“She lives!” Raven says, shooting Bellamy a knowing grin. He ignores it. “He’s carving it wrong.”

Clarke sits down at the table covered in pumpkin seeds and turns the pumpkin to face her. She stares at it for a moment. “How is he carving it wrong?”

“He’s just giving it triangles for eyes, you gotta be more creative!”

“Triangles are creative,” Shaw counters, pretending to look exasperated at Raven. Since meeting Shaw officially, Bellamy’s gotten to know him much better. He likes the guy, and thinks that he’s great for Raven. Not forgetting the fact that the guy literally saved Raven’s life probably, but. Bellamy watches as Raven sticks her tongue out at him and Shaw just rolls his eyes. He’s fucking smitten with her.

Bellamy wonders if he looks like that when he looks at Clarke.

“Triangles are classic,” Clarke tells them, and Raven looks betrayed.

“And here I thought you’d be on my side.” The blonde rolls her eyes. “Bellamy, you’re on my side, right?”

He glances at the pumpkin, and then Raven, and then Clarke and Shaw, both pleading at him to accept the triangles. “I’m with Clarke and Shaw,” he says, skimming a hand over Clarke’s shoulders as he goes to the fridge to get a beer. He just likes touching her, a lot. If he could touch her in ways that are not so innocent he would, but for now he’ll take what he can get.

Raven mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “of course you are,” but doesn’t say anything else.

The pumpkin is finished by seven o’clock, and by then the kids that live in the apartment complex have started coming around to trick-or-treat. Halloween was his favorite holiday of the year as a kid. His mom always made a lot of his costumes until he had to grow up, and they could never afford that much candy so Halloween was the best way to get it. So, to say that he doesn’t throw a little extra candy into every kids bag would be a lie.

Clarke and Raven tease him about it, but Shaw just grins and throws more candy into the bowl for when more kids come by.

When it gets darker and the teenagers start to come out, Clarke and Raven put on _Halloweentown_ , a classic Halloween movie according to them. “I dunno how you haven’t seen this, Bellamy, Octavia is your little sister. We watched this _every_ year,” Raven grumbles as they all get settled in seats. Shaw’s in the recliner and Raven’s on the floor in front of him, leaning back against his legs. Bellamy and Clarke sit on the couch together, Clarke’s socked feet thrown into his lap. She’s got on her Halloween socks, and it’s so fucking cute.

“I tried not to concern myself with what you two and my sister did while you were in college,” Bellamy says, and Raven pretends to chuck a shoe at him. He snorts and gets comfortable on the couch, resting his hands on Clarke’s ankles.

They’ve always had this easy intimacy with each other, but it’s never been this easy. Bellamy wishes it could be different, and that they could be intimate in other ways, but for now, he’s going to take exactly what he’s getting.

Because honestly, all he wants is Clarke. In any capacity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> clarke's birthday and a lot of writing that i'm really proud of next chapter
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clxrkeblxke!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI HELLO THIS IS MY FAVORITE CHAPTER OF THE ENTIRE FIC OMFG IM SO HYPE ITS FINALLY UP
> 
> ok but seriously this chapter is the whole reason i wrote this fic, like this was the "oh, this would be fun" moment so you can thank my brain at 3 am one night last december for thinking this up because WOWZA also i said fuck you to the weather patterns in boston so if there's anyone that lives in boston i am so sorry
> 
> also i changed the ending of this chapter last minute so it's going to take a little reconfiguring of the beginning of next chapter to make it all work so bear with me as i work on that but tbh i'm not expecting it to take long! enjoy!

“I don’t know where you expect me to put this cake, your fridge is full of alcohol,” Murphy grumbles, squinting into the fridge.

“That was not my doing,” Bellamy replies, reaching in to move some of it around. “Miller brought it by. And then shoved it in the fridge before leaving me to deal with it.”

Murphy snorts a bit and Bellamy helps him slowly slide the cake in. It’s Clarke’s birthday, and she got stuck working a morning shift. She got called in very early this morning, and luckily she gets off around 4 but having to work on your birthday sucks. Especially when all of your friends have been planning to come over for weeks.

“What time are you all coming over?”

Murphy glances at the microwave clock. “She gets off at 4? Probably 6, then? Give her time to get cleaned up and take a nap, because we all know she’ll want one?”

Bellamy snorts a bit and nods, “you’re probably right. I’ll wake her up if she sleeps too long.”

Murphy nods and for a moment, he’s quiet. Until— “Y’know, tonight wouldn’t be a bad night to say something.”

“Murphy—”

“I’m serious,” his friend says, “it’s her birthday. She’s already gonna be happy. You could just make her happier.”

Bellamy huffs and sits down at the kitchen table. “I dunno, man. She’s my best friend. It’d make things weird if I said something about feelings because you know she runs away from feelings.”

“Okay, you are correct, but she reciprocates the feelings. She wouldn’t be running away.”

Bellamy shrugs. “I dunno,” he repeats.

“What are you saying I dunno for?”

“I dunno if she reciprocates the feelings.”

Murphy overexaggerates rolling his eyes and makes the most annoyed face that he possibly could. “You don’t know if she reciprocates, oh my god—I’m gonna shove you two idiots in a closet so you’ll figure your shit out. Even then I don’t know if you will figure it out!”

Bellamy scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “There’s no shit for us to figure out because there’s nothing going on.” And he truly thinks that’s the truth. There are times when he wonders if she could reciprocate his feelings. But the doubt and the stress of telling her overweigh the possible good things that could happen. It’s just scary. Bellamy isn’t scared of a lot of things, but he’s scared of fucking things up with his best friend again.

Murphy stands dumbfounded for a moment, and then shakes his head. “Okay. Whatever, think what you want but you’re _wrong_.” Bellamy flips him off and Murphy grabs his coat from the back of the recliner. “I’m gonna go. I’ll be back at six, or whenever you decide to get your head out of your ass.”

“Get out of my house,” Bellamy calls as Murphy leaves and Murphy only says that he’s being an idiot.

A few hours later, Murphy’s back and he still looks just as annoyed as he did when he left. “Ah. So your head is still so far up your ass you can’t see anything anymore.”

Bellamy whacks his shoulder as Emori nearly tackles Clarke in a hug. “My head is out of my ass, thank you very much.”

His friend raises a brow. “Does that mean—”

“Nope. Don’t,” Bellamy warns, as Clarke comes up to give Murphy a quick hug. When she got home from work she immediately got into the shower and then passed out until about fifteen minutes ago, when Bellamy was forced to wake her up. Having to wake her up did funny things to his chest; it just felt so fucking domestic that he couldn’t breathe.

Murphy looks slightly less annoyed as Clarke goes back to Emori, but still narrows his eyes at Bellamy. “Once again, you’re an idiot.”

“Probably,” Bellamy says, raising his hands in an _oh well_ gesture. “It’s my personality at this point.”

“Griffin!” Raven’s voice from the kitchen sounds through the apartment, “Jasper made a drink for you and it kinda smells like gasoline but I think you’ll like it!”

“Oh, Jesus, who let Jasper make the drinks?”

Bellamy shrugs and watches as Clarke makes her way into the kitchen. “I dunno, but I’m gonna make sure she doesn’t drink that.”

“Do not let _anyone_ drink that,” Murphy corrects, and Bellamy snorts a bit and follows Clarke into the kitchen.

“What is in this?” He hears Clarke ask as he approaches her.

“Uh,” Jasper says, looking at the expanse of alcohol on the counter. Alcohol that Bellamy did not buy. His friends really do just like to drink. “Well, y’know the jungle juice that we’d drink in college? Kinda like that.”

“Aren’t we too old to be drinking jungle juice?” Clarke asks, lifting the cup to her nose to sniff. She grimaces a bit.

“Never too old to drink jungle juice,” Jasper replies with a grin, before turning his eyes to Bellamy. “He’s too old to drink jungle juice.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “I’m only a few years older than the rest of you. That doesn’t make me ancient, that just makes me more mature.”

Clarke snorts a bit, and he pokes her side lightly. “More mature, okay.”

“Like you’re the pinnacle of matureness.”

She sticks her tongue out at him, which only proves his point, but he’s too endeared by her to point it out. “Do you wanna try?”

Bellamy takes the cup from her lightly and tries not to smell it as he takes a sip. It burns. “Jesus. Okay, it smells like _and_ tastes like gasoline. You might want to tweak your recipe, Jasper.”

Jasper frowns at Bellamy’s words, but stares into the pitcher. Raven pulls Harper to dance and makes Clarke promise that she’ll join when she’s done drinking gasoline.

Bellamy gives Clarke a smile and his heart beats a little faster when she reaches up for a hug. His hands lock on her waist and he noses into her hair for a moment. “You having fun?”

Clarke nods and pulls back a bit, but she’s still very close. “I am. And I did see the cake in the fridge, and I know Murphy made it, so I’m very excited.”

Bellamy chuckles a bit, his eyes fluttering closed when she taps him on the cheek. “He dropped it off earlier. So you wouldn’t see it.”

“I’ll make sure I act surprised,” she murmurs, and his eyes open again, quickly finding hers. She’s so fucking close to him. He could drop a few inches and be fucking kissing her. He thinks about doing it, for a split second. By the time he’s thought it though, she’s already stepping back. “Raven’s gonna make me dance.”

“You don’t know how to dance,” Bellamy tells her, still a little thrown from having her that close to him, and him still not making a move.

Clarke shoots him a soft smile. “She can teach me. Or you can.”

“I’m not a very good dancer either,” he tells her, but Clarke only rolls her eyes with a smile. Fuck, now he wants to dance with her. This is only gonna get harder and harder. 

* * *

 

A couple of hours later, Raven sits Clarke down at the kitchen table. Everyone’s a little buzzed from Jasper’s new and improved gasoline drink, and everyone’s been laughing the entire night. Clarke’s been smiling all night and that’s all he could have asked for.

“So,” Raven says loudly, pulling a cheesy party hat out of the bag from the table. “As you probably know, because you find out everything, we had our coveted pastry chef John Murphy make your cake.”

Miller and Jackson snort from besides Bellamy as Murphy takes a bow. Clarke’s smile only gets brighter and Bellamy is feeling a little dizzy at the sight of it. Fuck, she’s so pretty.

Raven puts the party hat on Clarke’s head as Harper and Octavia come out of the kitchen carrying the cake and Murphy looks at it proudly. “I swear to Christ if you two drop that I am never making a cake for you.”

“We’ve got this,” Harper rolls her eyes and Octavia sticks her tongue out at Murphy. Bellamy chuckles a bit as the girls shakily land it on front of the table in front of Clarke. “I can’t believe you doubted us.”

“I didn’t doubt you,” Murphy grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “I just assumed.”

“Dick,” Octavia says, but it’s not filled with malice. Murphy aims a kick at Octavia, but she’s too quick and scampers away.

“Guys! Shut up we’re trying to light the candles!” Raven yells at them, grinning when Monty brandishes a lighter. They have a tradition in the group where on everyone’s birthday they count up as each candle is lit until they reach the last one. Tonight, it goes to twenty-four.

Monty lights each candle carefully, probably remembering two years ago when he nearly set Octavia’s hair on fire. The amount of light coming from the cake grows larger and larger and Clarke’s face is illuminated by the light. It only enhances the nearly perfect features she has, and Bellamy can’t stop staring.

Finally, the last candle is lit, and Raven grins brightly at Clarke. “Don’t forget to make a wish,” Raven says, her voice wobbling a bit and Bellamy _knows_ it’s from that damn gasoline drink. Then, a chorus of Happy Birthday rings through the apartment, and Bellamy can’t wipe the smile from his face. She blows out the candles with a grin and Raven cheers louder than the rest of them. He’s so glad they’re all friends.

Bellamy watches as Raven swipes a bit of frosting onto Clarke’s face and the blonde laughs. It’s like her laugh is the fucking sun, lighting up the entire room. And her smile? Don’t even get him started on her smile. It’s like the stars decided that they were literally going to choose her to light up, to make her shine that brightly.

And it’s in that moment, when she grins at him with a cheesy party hat on her head, blue frosting on her nose, and a dusting of pink across her cheeks, that Bellamy realizes he is so, so, _so_ beyond fucked.

He’s in love with Clarke.

It’s after everyone’s left that Clarke’s dozing on the couch, her head lolled onto her shoulder. Bellamy watches her for a moment before darting back to his room to grab her gift. They did presents after cake, but he wanted to give his to her after everyone was gone. It seems more personal, especially for the lightning strike of a realization he had earlier in the evening.

He drops down gently onto the couch and she shifts a bit, her eyes blinking open. “Sorry,” he whispers, and she shakes her head. Clarke adjusts herself on the couch, her head falling to rest against his arm and her legs sprawling across his to try to reach the coffee table. His heart thumps in his chest and he feels his stomach jump onto a few rollercoasters. “I got you something,” Bellamy murmurs and Clarke shifts again.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she mumbles, and he scoffs.

“Course I did. It’s your birthday. And you got me something for my birthday, so it’s only fair,” he tells her. Clarke sits up and he uses that opportunity to take a leap of faith and slide his arm across the back of the couch. It’s as if she was waiting for that, because she curls into his side and god, he really does love her. It doesn’t scare him as much as it probably should. “Open it,” he urges, grinning when she fingers the edge of the wrapping paper. “Oh, come on, you have the destruction tendencies of a toddler, tear it open.”

Clarke laughs and does as she’s told, and he watches nervously. He shouldn’t be nervous about this, he knows that she’s going to love it. It’s just the earth-shattering thing he experienced earlier that’s making him nervous. When Clarke finally gets the box opened she raises a brow. “You got me… _socks_?” She doesn’t sound disappointed, just amused and a bit confused.

“Read the card,” Bellamy urges, and she reaches into the box again to find the card.

Her eyes skim it quickly and she lights up (the fucking sun, he swears) brightly, “you got me _socks_! You signed me up for the sock-of-the-month club! _Bellamy_!”

And then he smiles back, because she’s fucking beaming. “You have a collection,” he laughs, “I swear you have a different pair of socks for every day of the year. So I found this online and immediately thought of you and—”

He doesn’t get to finish because he gets Clarke’s hair in his mouth when she throws her arms around him in a hug. Bellamy smiles and wraps his arms around her waist, holding her close to him. “Thanks, Bell,” he hears her mumble, her mouth somewhere close to his ear and he can’t help but turn his head a bit to kiss the side of her head. Fuck, he’s so gone for her.

“Wait,” he says, quickly remembering the other half of her gift that sits on the floor in a bag. “I got you something else.”

“I dunno how you can beat the socks,” Clarke says, gently extracting herself from Bellamy’s hold. She’s still very close to him and he tries not to get mesmerized by the blue of her eyes or the curve of her lips. “Wait I have to put them on!”

Bellamy grins, “hold them up first for a picture.” He pulls his phone from his pocket as Clarke holds her socks up, grinning so brightly he thinks he’s gonna melt. He snaps the picture and Clarke leans over to look at it. Yup, that’s gonna be his phone screen for the rest of his life. She puts on her new artist themed socks as Bellamy reaches down for the other half of her gift. “Here.”

The blonde grins again, this time quickly reaching into the bag. She laughs loudly when she figures out what it is. “You got me a bag of just the marshmallows from Lucky Charms.”

Bellamy nods, settling back onto the couch next to her and tries not to feel so smug when she rests against him. “You always complain about there not being enough marshmallows near the bottom of the bag, so…” Clarke smiles, looking at him with a look he can’t quite decipher. “Happy birthday.”

Clarke worries her lip and Bellamy can’t stop himself from looking at the movement. “You’re the best, Bell,” she says, and his eyes snap to hers. “Thank you. I still think that your customized bottle of wine last year was great but this… this takes the cake.” Bellamy’s heart swells and his thumb rubs gently on her collarbone where her skin peaks through her sweater. He wants to kiss up her collarbone and up her neck to her mouth because he knows she’s ticklish everywhere, and fuck, that’s when he knows he’s _super_ fucked. Because not only does he want to fuck her to the point where the only name she knows is his, he also wants to make her smile and laugh and hear about her good days and her bad days.

“You deserve it,” Bellamy murmurs, smiling at her. Clarke grins at him before setting her bag of marshmallows on the table and wrapping her arms around his neck again to hug him. They stay like that for a very long time.

* * *

 

Clarke watches Bellamy doze on the couch while the TV blares in the background. He’s exhausted, and it’s obvious. It’s the last week before Thanksgiving break, and now he has thousands of pages of homework to grade which have conveniently been left on the coffee table untouched. He tried to work on them when he got home, but he gave up so quickly and just laid down.

She watches the slow rise and fall of his chest and tries to stop herself from joinig him on the couch. It’s cold outside, and a little chilly inside, and he just looks so warm and comfy. Clarke hears the wind whistle outside and chews at her lip. She doesn’t know if it would cross a line with them. Something changed on her birthday, she just hasn’t been able to figure out what. But she’s made up her mind.

She finally stands up and wraps a blanket around herself before tiptoing over to the couch. She finds the remote and mutes the TV before sitting on the edge of the couch.

Bellamy shifts awake and she holds her breath. “What’re you doing?” He mumbles, voice thick with the tendrils of sleep. It makes her heart pound.

“I’m cold and I wanna nap too,” she tells him and he smiles sleepily. Bellamy scoots closer to the back of the couch to give her room to lay down. He opens his arms without hesitation and Clarke curls into them instantly. God, she was so right. He’s so warm and comfy. She’s gotten used to the physical touches from Bellamy, but his hands on her waist are always going to get her heart racing.

Bellamy wraps an arm around her body as Clarke gets settled into his side, her head against the pane of his chest. She wonders if he can feel her heart, because she can definitely feel his. Clarke can feel his breath on the top of her head and she snuggles up closer to him, the blanket wrapped loosely around her.

She’s asleep in minutes. 

* * *

 

Bellamy wakes to the flash of a camera. His eyes open blearily and he finds Octavia standing by the recliner, her phone up and her brows raised. Then he remembers that Octavia and Lincoln are coming over for dinner, and he’s curled up on a couch with Clarke. Not that he’s complaining but he didn’t want his sister to ruin this. And now she has a picture of it.

Octavia raises a brow at him, before gesturing to Clarke, who’s snuggled into his chest. He makes a face and very gently (and somewhat begrudgingly) unlatches her from around him and follows her into the kitchen.

“You wanna explain that?” Octavia asks as she unloads her share of the dinner.

Bellamy presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and then shakes his head. “We were just napping, O.”

His sister rolls her eyes. “If you fucking call that platonic napping, I’m gonna kill you. This shit is the furthest thing from platonic,” Octavia snorts, and Bellamy flicks her shoulder. He’s still trying to wake up and get the smell of Clarke’s shampoo out of his head. How is it that she’s so pretty, so smart, and smells so good? She’s the goddamn jackpot of everything he’s ever wanted.

“It’s not like that.”

“It’s not like that _my ass_ ,” Octavia scoffs, and he makes another face at her. “Are you ever gonna do anything about how you feel about her?”

Bellamy sighs. “I don’t know, O. I don’t want to mess up everything else.”

Octavia puts a pot on the stove and looks at him, hands on her hips. “We need to get your glasses checked, oh my god. I’m not supposed to tell you this but for the love of god if it gets the ball rolling I think she’ll forgive me, but she’s been in love with you for months.”

He feels his heart stutter to a stop and then looks back at Clarke who’s still asleep on the couch. “Months?”

“Okay, maybe not like months,” Octavia adjusts her answer, fiddling with the dial on the stove. “She’s at least had feelings for you for like, half a year. And you’ve had feelings for her for at least a few months, and I would love if you got a move on and did something so you’d both stop complaining about something that has a very simple fix.”

Bellamy goes to say something else when he hears a shift from the living room. Octavia gives him a tight smile as he turns to see Clarke shuffling towards the kitchen, the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair is a little tangled and she’s still sleepy, but to Bellamy she’s the most beautiful woman in the world.

His heart only swells more when she stops by him and leans into his side, eyes still closing from sleeping. “Hey sleepyhead,” he murmurs and she smiles tiredly. “Sleep alright?”

“Mm. Really good.” Octavia rolls her eyes and gives Clarke a smile. “Hey, O. Lincoln still coming?”

“He’s on his way. He got held up at work and had to leave a little later, but he’s on the way.” Later, after they’ve eaten, Octavia and Bellamy are doing the dishes as Clarke and Lincoln chat in the living room. “Do something about it, Bellamy. Either you do or I will, and I can guarantee you won’t like what I do.”

Bellamy flicks soap at her, but makes sure to heed her warning. He’s sure as hell not letting his sister fuck anything up.

* * *

 So, three days later, Bellamy decides to make something that resembles a move. It’s the first snowfall of the year and both of them had luckily gotten home right before it started getting bad. School let out early, even though Thanksgiving break starts Friday afternoon, but he’s not going to complain.

He watches as she shakes snowflakes out of her hair and hangs up her jacket, slightly shivering. He pushes her a cup of hot chocolate and she smiles gratefully, before sitting on the couch next to him. “How much snow are we supposed to get?”

Bellamy shrugs. “Not sure. A few inches at least. How was work?”

She groans and takes a sip from her mug. “So many snow related accidents. You’d think that people would know how to drive, but apparently not. How was school?”

He rolls his eyes. “My kids stopped paying attention as soon as they got to school,” he tells her, and Clarke laughs a bit. It’s snowing uncharacteristically early, but the weathermen predicted months ago that this was gonna be the coldest winter in the past fifty years. “I get that Thanksgiving break starts in four days, but I’m happy we got to leave. Even if we have to make it up at the end of the year.”

It only takes a little more time, but with her exhaustion and the warmth of the house, Clarke starts to fall asleep, and Bellamy grins. “Goodnight,” she mumbles, laying down on the couch and stretching out.

“It’s two o’clock in the afternoon, Clarke.”

“Goodnight,” she repeats, grinning when he stands to cover her with a blanket.

“You’re ridiculous,” he laughs but then smiles. “Mind if I join you?” Her face lights up three shades of pink and happiness and Bellamy knows that it’s done the trick. She tips her head into a nod slowly, before moving out of the way to allow him to crawl between her and the couch back. He’s not gonna complain; Bellamy’s completely happy to hold her as closely to him as he can.

Clarke’s stiff for a moment as he adjusts himself, but then relaxes when one of his arms slips under her head and the other twines around her waist, tugging her closer. “I don’t want you to fall off,” he lies easily, and she laughs a bit. Truth is, he just wants to hold her, but he won’t tell her that.

Bellamy’s amazed at how well they fit together, and honestly, he’d be okay with staying right here for the rest of his life. Her hair smells clean and vanilla-y, and it smells good, but underneath that it’s something undeniably Clarke, and he loves it. She shifts closer to him, her body pressing into his and his breath hitches, but he lets it happen. “Get some sleep,” he whispers, “We’ll wake up in a little.” Octavia's words from earlier in the week bounce around in his head, but he knows it's not the time. Soon, but not now.

When Bellamy wakes two and a half hours later, there’s an uncomfortable chill in the air. It’s cold, and every single light is off. He carefully reaches across Clarke to grab his cell phone from the coffee table and is not pleased to find out that the power is out across their apartment complex and the areas surrounding them. The snow came with a venegence.

He has two missed calls from Octavia and a few texts from their other friends asking if they have power. He quickly replies to the texts before setting his phone back down and trying to nudge Clarke awake.

“Hey,” he whispers when her eyes creak open.

“Hey,” she murmurs back, her eyes soft and sleepy.

“Power’s out,” Bellamy tells her, tightening his grip on her body.

“Is that why it’s cold?” She whines, burrowing deeper down into the blanket that they’ve wrapped around themselves.

Bellamy nods and runs a thumb on her hip. “Yeah.”

“When is it supposed to come back on?”

Bellamy shrugs and reaches for his phone again to check the weather and the power company. He squints at the screen, quickly reading the updates before sighing. “At least a few more hours. They can’t get anyone out to the posts because of how much snow is out there already.” Clarke groans and closes her eyes again as he tries to get up. Her fingers clutch onto his shirt and she huffs. “Clarke, I have to start the fireplace.”

The blonde groans and shakes her head stubbornly. “You’re warm.”

“It’ll be even warmer if you let me start the fire,” Bellamy chuckles, gently extracting him from her hold. She groans and curls into the warmth that he left on the couch. Bellamy rubs his hands together before moving towards the fireplace in the dim light streaming through the windows. “You’re a blanket hog,” he finally says, and Clarke huffs out a laugh.

“I am not.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes and glances back towards the couch to find her curled in a ball, blanket wrapped tightly around her. His heart stutters and he has to quickly turn away to prevent himself from doing something stupid like kissing her until there’s no tomorrow. “Mhm.”

“Only because the power went out and it’s freezing outside and inside, not any other time,” she says sleepily, grinning at him. The fire finally starts and Bellamy can only hope that it warms up quickly. “Is it dinner time yet?”

Bellamy laughs and smiles fondly at her before checking the time on his phone. “It’s only four-thirty, but it’ll probably take us an hour to figure out how to make something for dinner. C’mon.” 

* * *

 

Clarke’s room is absolutely freezing. Despite having put several extra blankets on the bed, she can’t seem to warm herself up enough to fall asleep. After a couple of hours of tossing and turning and trying to stay warm, Clarke gives up and makes the short walk to Bellamy’s room. He’ll know what to do. She hesitates for a moment before quietly knocking on the door.

It’s a couple moments before there’s movement from inside the room. “Yeah?” Clarke opens the door gently to find him getting out of bed quickly, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips. Her eyes cling to his body for a moment, the abs leading to the vee of his hips, which lead to… Her heart flops. “You okay?”

She nods and shifts on her feet, trying to push her thoughts out of her head. “It’s just… too quiet. And cold. I can’t sleep.” He nods slowly, before gesturing to his bed. “Really?”

“We’ll stay warm,” he murmurs, squeezing her shoulder lightly. “I’ll be right back. Get comfortable.” Bellamy leaves the room quickly and Clarke stares unsurely at his bed for a moment, before slowly crawling into it.

She feels incredibly awkward. Surely, this crosses a line. Sleeping in the same bed as the man she’s in love with, but won’t do anything about it. She’s a goddamn fool. But his bed is a little warmer than hers and it smells like him, so at least she’s a goddamn fool in love.

Bellamy enters again and Clarke helps him spread the extra couple blankets on top of his bed. “Lay down,” he tells her gently, before slipping into his closet to grab one more blanket. Just in case, she assumes. Boston is fucking cold in the winter. Once he reemmerges from the closet, she’s disappointed to find that he’s put on a shirt. Sure, it’s probably more practical, but she likes his chest, okay? Sue her.

Bellamy slides into bed slowly, his head falling back onto the pillow and Clarke grumbles. “It’s cold,” she says, and he nods at her.

“Well if you lay down it’ll get warmer.” He says back, reaching over to tug her backwards. “C’mere. Not gonna get warmer unless you lay down.”

Finally, she does as she’s told and faces Bellamy. He’s much too far away for her liking, but she doesn’t say anything. “I hate it when the power goes out. The generators go out and make everything too cold and quiet. You’d think that after living here my whole life I’d get used to it, but—”

“I dunno if you can ever get used to the freezing temperatures,” Bellamy mumbles, and Clarke nods. He pulls the blankets tighter around her and she slowly scoots closer to him. “Try to get some sleep,” he murmurs, “it’s late. I’m sure the power will be back on by tomorrow. And since neither of us have to work, so we can spend all day avoiding our responsibilities.” Clarke laughs and Bellamy brushes a bit of hair from behind her ear and she freezes, before relaxing into his touch. In an instant, it’s like she’s one hundred times warmer. Bellamy’s a heat box.

It’s like they’re magnets to each other, because they move at the same time. Clarke folds into his arms carefully and Bellamy pulls her back flush to his chest. His breath ruffles the hair on the top of her head as she molds into him perfectly, and fuck, she wants this. Not just tonight. She wants this every night. She wants to lay in bed with him and talk and kiss and just be in love with each other. That’s all she wants. Nothing more, and nothing less. Just him, in any form she can get him.

Clarke snuggles closer and she could swear that his breath hitches. She wedges her frozen feet in between his calves, and he hisses a bit. But she only smiles. “Night, Bell.”

“Goodnight, Clarke,” Bellamy whispers, burying his face into the back of her neck.

* * *

 

When he wakes up the next morning it’s still cold in the apartment.

It’s anything but cold in the bed.  Clarke’s body is pressed tightly against him, back to chest, ass to hips and he wants to scream. He’s half-hard against her and he wants to explode. Her shirt has ridden up higher on her waist and he can’t stop staring at the expanse of pale skin there. He wants nothing more than to press her into the mattress and kiss her senseless and finally do something about it, but he doesn’t. His sister's words continue to echo in his head and he's about to lose his goddamn mind.

Bellamy has to carefully pull himself from the bed so she doesn’t wake up and when he finally gets up he wants to kick himself for moving. Because she looks so warm, so at peace, so beautiful, and he wants her. Wants her in every way, and he just can’t have her.

He stomps into the kitchen unhappily and tells himself to calm down and not think about the woman in his bed. He splashes some water on his face and then busies himself with cleaning up the kitchen to distract himself from everything he’s feeling.

About thirty minutes later, Clarke walks into the living room, dressed in her scrubs. Bellamy frowns. “What’re you doing?”

“Going to work? What does it look like I’m doing?”

He raises a brow and looks outside to find that the snow has stopped but it’s still icy. “I thought you didn’t have work today?”

She turns and looks at him with a brow raised. “Got called in,” Clarke says while she grabs a bagel for the road. “One of the desk nurses’ daughter has strep and they needed someone to fill in today. And people are idiots when it snows.” Bellamy watches with annoyance as she pulls on her jacket. “What is that face for?” She huffs, finally getting a glimpse of his face.

“Is it safe to be driving right now?

“Are you doubting my ability to drive in this weather?” Clarke teases, but he’s not having it today. He’s a mother hen, especially when it comes to her.

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “No. I’m just saying that it isn’t exactly safe to be driving right now.”

Clarke crosses the room to him and sets her hands on his forearms. “I will be fine. Besides, they always clear the major roads heading towards the hospital. It’s also not even that icy, Bellamy. You’re just a worrier. I’ll text you when I get there so you know that I’m alive.” Bellamy rolls his eyes but nods slowly

“Let me know when you’re leaving tonight too.” Clarke tips her head into a nod and then looks down. “Be safe.”

“I’m always safe.” Clarke replies, grinning. She squeezes his forearms and springs up to kiss his cheek. He’s so shocked that he doesn’t process it until she’s already moving away from him. He swears his cheek is burning. She pulls her hat on, gives him a smile, and then she’s gone.

As soon as she texts him saying that she made it to work, he’s made up his mind.

As soon as she gets home tonight he’s gonna tell her. He’s gonna tell her everything. He’s gonna tell her how he’s absolutely in love with her and that he wants to be for a very long time. He’s gonna tell her everything about her that made him realize that. He’s gonna make dinner and tell her everything. He’ll deal with the rejection if he has to, but he’s going to tell her everything.

As soon as Bellamy’s made his decision, it feels like he can breathe again. It also only makes him think more about the previous night and her body pressed up against his and her lips against his cheek. It only reassures his choice.

The power comes on again around noon and Bellamy knows that he has no choice about grading the papers that he’s been putting off all week. His body is buzzing from what he knows he’s going to do tonight, and he finds it increasingly difficult to concentrate on his work as time goes by. But he gets most of them done, only finding serious errors in five of them. That’s an improvement from the beginning of the year when almost half of them had serious writing mistakes.

Halfway through the afternoon, Bellamy puts on some Netflix show but he’s truthfully not paying attention. Octavia calls and invites him over for dinner on Saturday, and if she could tell that he was distracted, she doesn’t say anything.

He gets a text from Clarke around four, where she tells him that the hospital is boring and that she wishes she was home instead. It’s not like he was unsure before, but now he’s incredibly sure about what he’s going to do.

Bellamy starts dinner at five. He knows that she’ll be gone for at least another two hours, so he takes his time. He wants to make her favorite, partly because he knows that she’ll need it and also because he wants to show her that he’s in this, if she wants him to be.

He so desperately hopes she wants him to be.

He even more so desperately hopes that _she_ wants to be.

Bellamy’s back to bouncing his leg on the couch when Clarke texts him saying that she’s leaving the hospital. She has to stop at the gas station, but that’s just enough time to get the food off the stove and warm it up again.

Bellamy’s anxious, but a little excited. He’s about to tell this incredible girl exactly why she’s so incredible and why he’s so gone for her. He’s nervous, but he has a good feeling. A really, really good feeling.

His phone lights up and he grins when he sees Clarke’s Krispy Kreme picture on Caller ID. He’s nearly giddy with excitement and nerves, and he can’t keep the smile off of his face as he answers. “Hey, are you almost home?”

The line is quiet for a few seconds, and Bellamy raises a brow as he pulls a pot off of the stove. “Clarke?”

“Bellamy?”

The tone of her voice causes his stomach to drop. “Clarke? What’s up, are you almost home?”

“I don’t know,” the end of it drops into a whimper. “I don’t know what—”

“Clarke.” Bellamy’s frozen. His heart is beating uncomfortably fast and he doesn’t know what’s going on.

And then there’s a loud sob and fuck, something’s happened. He hears her ragged breathing and the creak of something that sounds suspiciously like metal, and that’s all it takes to get him moving. Bellamy turns the stove off as quickly as he can. “Someone hit me,” her voice is quiet, and faint, and full of pain.

Panic grips Bellamy like a vice as he scrambles to his room to get his shoes and a coat. Fuck, it’s fucking cold outside. Fuck, there’s ice on the roads. _Ice_. “Clarke, it’s—fuck, it’s gonna be okay. I need you to tell me where you are.”

Anxiety turns his stomach over and his head pounds as he shoves his feet into his shoes. Fuck, fuck, fuck. There’s another sob and his heart is in his throat and there’s a lump that’s forming rapidly as he hears more quiet cries. “I’m on my side,” she whimpers, and Bellamy’s halfway out the door before he realizes he doesn’t have a clue where she is.

“Clarke?” Only more ragged breathing and soft cries reach him through the phone. “Clarke baby, I need you to tell me where you are.” It slips out before he can think about it, but he doesn’t even _care_. Something’s wrong and he can’t get to her. Something’s wrong and she’s hurt. Something’s _wrong_.

A cold fist wraps around his entire body when she only cries some more. “I don’t know,” she chokes out a sob, and she goes quiet for a moment, and Bellamy’s frozen again. Her voice is fainter when she speaks next. “Sirens. There are sirens…”

It’s enough to make him move. He’s shaking as he puts his phone on speaker and frantically texts Raven. Raven has her on tracking. Raven will know where she is.

“That’s good,” Bellamy manages, his voice trembling as he waits for a response from Raven. “Sirens are good, Clarke. They’re gonna help you. They’re gonna get you to a hospital and they’re gonna help you.” Bellamy’s not religious, but right now he’s praying to every god out there to get her out of this. To keep her alive.

“Yeah…” there’s a cough, and then another whimper of pain. Raven messages him back with only question marks, and he doesn’t have time for this. But then she sends a screenshot of Clarke’s location and Bellamy realizes she’s ten minutes from home. Ten fucking minutes. “Bell?”

“I’m here,” he forces out, trampling down to his car as quickly as he can. He’s shaking like a leaf and the panic has taken over his system, but he has to get to her. “I’m not going anywhere.” Bellamy’s phone vibrates with another text from Raven, asking what the hell is going on. He doesn’t know how to reply. He doesn’t know how to fucking tell her that Clarke was in a fucking car accident because he doesn’t even know if he can say it.  Because Clarke’s hurt and he can’t do anything.

For the first time in his life, there’s absolutely _nothing_ he can do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things were going too well all will be explained next chapter im so sorry
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clxrkeblxke!


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *insert gif from 22 jump street* so... something not so chill happened last night
> 
> im assuming this is how most of y'all felt after the chaos that was last chapter and tbh that was my intention. the response overwhelmed me and i cannot thank y'all enough for continuing to read and rec and comment on this story - it really means so, so, so much.
> 
> but im not a sap so here's the chapter. it's 5k of a lot of emotions. also i have no idea about medical stuff like i researched a little but like if you're a nurse or a doctor or student or something and it is horribly wrong pls let me know and i'll fix it!!

Bellamy loses the connection with Clarke about a minute after she calls him, and his hands still haven’t stopped shaking.

Raven calls him about ten seconds later. “Bellamy, what the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know,” he manages, taking a sharp breath and still not getting enough air. “I don’t—I don’t know, Raven—” Bellamy swallows thickly and the lump of panic won’t subside in his throat. “She called me, saying that someone hit her driving home. I don’t know what else is happening.”

“Someone hit her?” Raven screeches, and he can hear her moving frantically around her apartment. “What the fuck, where is she? Oh my god I’m—.”

“I don’t know,” Bellamy tries to emphasize, but the feelings of dread are taking over. Fuck, Clarke’s hurt.

“Oh fuck,” Raven says, “Abby’s calling me.”

“Answer it,” he urges, climbing into his car, “I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

Bellamy’s heart pounds uncomfortably fast as he drives as quickly as he deems safe. It’s not safe to be driving and he wants to kick himself for letting her go to work this morning. His hands are shaky and sweaty when he whips into the parking lot of the hospital. Bellamy sprints inside, careful to avoid the ice scattered on the ground. He bursts through the doors and immediately searches for the check in desk, but Raven finds him first. “What did Abby say?” Bellamy demands, his voice dry and shaky.

Raven wrings her hands together. “It’s bad,” she whispers, and Bellamy can actually feel his heart break. “Someone—someone slid on the ice and crashed into her drivers side and I know it’s not their fault but it’s their fucking fault.” Bellamy knows he has to be logical, because he can’t do anything for Clarke if he loses his mind, but he can’t help but agree with Raven. He trudges back to the waiting room with her, and immediately zeroes in on Jackson who literally looks like he’s seen hell.

Bellamy scans his eyes over him and finds that even though his scrubs look new, it’s obvious there was blood on him at some point. “Bad,” is all he says and Bellamy wants to punch something, but he’s too scared to move. “As soon as they figured out I knew her they sent me away. Broken arm for sure, I have no idea about anything else.” Jackson’s voice is shaky and Bellamy thinks his entire body is going to collapse into dust.

He wants to throw up.

Bellamy’s hands shake uncontrollably as he paces the room waiting for anything, something about Clarke’s condition. Raven isn’t much better, but she’s able to sit still. Jackson makes most of the calls, since the two of them are out of commission at the moment.

He doesn’t remember what the last thing he said to her was. Was it _be safe_? Yeah, _that_ did her a lot of use. He runs a hand through his hair and tries not to rip it out. Waves of terror and anxiety roll over him and he’s doing everything in his power to stay up straight, even though all he wants to do is fall over.

Their friends arrive within the next thirty minutes, and no one says a word to Bellamy when they get there. No one dares to say anything that might make it worse. He’s in a stupor, he thinks he’s in shock. This can’t be happening. It can’t. Be. Happening.

Octavia and Lincoln are the last to arrive, and his sister is the only one who approaches him. She looks just as much in a panic as he is, and he can tell that she’s already been crying. “Bell,” she says, and he has to look down so she doesn’t see his face fall. “Bellamy.”

“I’m fine,” he manages, “really. I’m fine.”

“Hey—”

“Please just go sit down,” Bellamy pleads, finding his sister’s eyes again. “I just—please.” He can’t talk to anyone. He needs to process alone, even if he doesn’t even know what he’s processing. Octavia stares at him for a moment, before squeezing his forearm and nearly tackling Raven in a hug. The two women whisper quietly as Emori and Harper listen with thousand-yard stares plastered on their faces.

Bellamy doesn’t know what to do. His heart feels like it’s been run through a meat grinder and his head feels like it’s been crushed. Everything is wrong and Clarke is hurt and there is absolutely nothing that he can do to help her.

So he paces. He nearly wears a hole into the floor of the hospital waiting room. The minutes tick by, and the room clears out and refills up, but none of them move. Occasionally, one of his friends will step out but Bellamy doesn’t know where they go. He doesn’t care. The only person he cares about at this given moment is Clarke, and they still haven’t heard a thing.

Bellamy thinks back to this morning, fuck, was it only this morning? She was in his bed. She was smiling. Twelve hours ago everything was normal and everything was good. She wasn’t in a fucking hospital with injuries that he can’t even fathom. He was going to tell her, and now he doesn’t know when or if he’ll see her again.

At the end of the phone call, she passed out. Or, he’s assuming she passed out. That’s what he’s choosing to believe. He doesn’t even want to think of the alternative. But after she passed out he heard paramedics shouting and screaming, and then the line went dead. They wouldn’t be keeping them all out here if she’s…

Bellamy’s stomach is in knots and he doesn’t know if he wants to scream or cry. Both will probably happen, but he doesn’t know what to do. He feels lost. He feels fucking devastated.

* * *

 

The next two hours tick by. Everyone gets more agitated as time goes by. Jasper’s leg bounces. Murphy tap his hands on the arm of the chair he’s sitting in. Harper and Monty fiddle with each other’s fingers, and Bellamy finds it physically painful to look at. Because they have each other for support during this. He doesn’t have that kind of support right now. Sure, he has his friends. But the person that he so desperately wants is the one behind the hospital doors.

Half an hour later, a doctor appears and makes a beeline towards Raven. “Ms. Reyes?” Raven jerks her head up, almost as if she’s scared to hear what they have to say. She stands and slowly trudges over to him, and it’s like the entire waiting room is holding their breath. Bellamy certainly can’t breathe; he can’t even look at the doctor while he speaks. “Clarke is in pretty bad shape, but she’s stable for now.”

Bellamy’s legs nearly collapse from underneath him, and thousands of emotions flood through him. “While she was driving, someone lost control and spun out, hitting her driver’s side. Her car rolled onto its side, and she has suffered multiple injuries. From what we know now, her left arm is broken, she most likely has a concussion, and it appears that she has experienced a form of intestinal rupture.” Fuck, what the hell is that?

“What does that mean?” Octavia asks, and the doctor looks anxiously at them.

“The blunt force from her seatbelt tore a hole in her intestinal wall. She’s finishing up surgery now, and I’m optimistic that she’s going to recover.” Optimistic. Not certain. Oh fuck, he’s going to pass out. “In addition, she has bruising from her seatbelt, the airbag, and multiple lacerations up the left side of her body. We have her on a ventilator just in case due to the swelling in her abdominal cavity from the impact of the airbag. She’s unconscious for now, and probably will be for the next several hours to several days.”

Several days? Bellamy’s stomach is in knots and fear is radiating off of him. His hands are shaking again and no matter how many times he tells himself that she’s alive, he keeps thinking of everything that can go wrong. The surgery might not have worked. She might stay unconscious forever. Car accidents are traumatic, sometimes people don’t wake up after those.

Bellamy has to sit down.

He collapses into the chair next to Murphy, and his friend doesn’t say anything to him just yet. The doctor continues speaking, but Bellamy can hardly hear anything over the pounding in his head. “We’ll continue to give you more updates when we get them.”

“Where’s Abby?”

“She’s not allowed to work on family, but she is in the hospital going over Clarke’s charts. We have her on standby just in case.” Just in case Clarke dies. The sentence didn’t have to be finished, but Bellamy knew exactly what the doctor was going to say.

A hunk of lead settles in his stomach, and he drops his head into his hands. He’s angry and he’s scared and he doesn’t know how to act. The last time things were this serious at a hospital, his mother died. Being back in a hospital with Clarke’s life on the line is a whole other level of terrified. He’s in love with this woman and he _doesn’t know what to do_.

“How’re you feeling?” Murphy asks gruffly, and Bellamy snorts. How the hell is he supposed to answer that?”

“I’m fine,” he snaps, and Murphy only lets out a sigh through his teeth.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Murphy doesn’t have to say anything else, but he very well knows that Bellamy’s feelings for Clarke run a lot deeper than just platonic ones. Bellamy’s got half a mind to think that everyone knows that, but Murphy knows better than any of them. “She’s gonna be fine. There’s no way in hell Clarke Griffin would let a little ice and car accident take her out.”

The words are appreciated, but do little to loosen the knot in his stomach. Bellamy’s hands are still shaking. He doesn’t think they’ll ever stop. The panic is finally subsiding, but it’s unfortunately being replaced by uncertainty. All they know is that stable for now. They don’t have a clue about anything else, they don’t even know if she’s going to _wake up_. Bellamy blinks tears out of his eyes and looks down so his friends won’t see.

“Bellamy Blake?” He looks up sharply to find a goddamn police officer standing in the waiting room. Bellamy sits stunned for a moment, but then Murphy nudges him. He stands so quickly he nearly falls over. “May I speak with you?”

Bellamy manages a nod and follows the police officer out of the waiting room, ignoring the hushed whispers from his friends. He shoves his hands into his pockets and tries to ignore the anxious feeling that won’t stop building in his stomach. “I know that it’s late and that it’s been a very long night already, but we’re just trying to determine the cause of the accident. It doesn’t look like foul play, it purely looks like an accident. The other driver hit a large patch of ice and spun out and hit Clarke’s car. It caused her to spin out, and then roll onto her side.”

He wants to vomit. Oh my god.

“We don’t think that it was Clarke’s fault, but we can’t exactly say that it wasn’t the other driver’s fault either.”

“They weren’t drinking and driving?” Bellamy asks gruffly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“It doesn’t look like it,” the officer replies, and Bellamy blinks quickly. “We’re testing the driver for substances in his blood, but it looks like it’s going to be ruled as an accident. We wanted to get your side of the story, considering when we got into the car you were connected through Bluetooth.”

So that’s how she called him. Fuck. “Were you on the phone when the accident happened?” The officer asks, pulling out a notebook, and Bellamy shakes his head.

“She only—” Bellamy takes a sharp breath. “She only called me after it happened. I don’t know how long of a time there was in between the accident and when she called me.”

The officer nods. “She was coming from the hospital?”

Bellamy tips his head. “She was heading home. She said that she had to stop at the gas station, but I don’t know if she did.”

The officer raises a brow and Bellamy fiddles with a string on his jacket sleeve. “It doesn’t look like she had stopped at a gas station. The only thing we found in her car was Chinese takeout.”

Bellamy furrows his brows. Why would she say she was getting gas, only for her to get takeout? Then again, he didn’t tell her he was making dinner, so… fuck, did he turn the stove off in his haste to leave? “You two live together?”

“She’s my roommate,” Bellamy mutters, but the word roommate doesn’t seem like enough. He could describe what Clarke is to him in a thousand different ways, but roommate just doesn’t seem right. The officer doesn’t look convinced on his part, and Bellamy can’t blame him. He wouldn’t look convinced either if he saw a guy looking like a damn mess after someone got into a car accident.

The officer reaches into his backpack and extracts a small, quart sized bag. “This is what we got from her car after we investigated the scene.” Bellamy takes it and swallows. Clarke’s phone, keys, wallet, and hospital card. “We’ll keep you and Clarke’s family updated as we continue to investigate, but surely it helps knowing there was no foul play.”

Bellamy’s numb when he nods back. “Thanks.” The officer leaves and Bellamy’s about five seconds away from collapsing with grief and terror. But he stays upright and makes his way back to his friends.

“What happened? What’d they say?” Raven demands, and the rest of his friends follow with more questions.

“Let the man speak!” Murphy says loudly, and the people in the waiting room that don’t belong to them glance over.

Bellamy tips his head in thanks at Murphy. His friend only waits for what Bellamy has to say. “They said it was accident. No foul play, the other driver just skid on some ice, and hit Clarke driver’s side. She spun, and then rolled, and that’s all I know. But they don’t think that either of them were drunk, and so far there are no substances present in either of their blood, so it’s—” Bellamy swallows and looks down at his feet. “It was just an accident.”

No one says it, but they’re all thinking the same thing. It was just an accident that put Clarke into the hospital.

It’s another forty-five minutes of painful waiting before the doctor comes back out. Bellamy’s back to pacing. “We’re getting Clarke settled in her room. She is still unconscious, and we may have to open her back up again tomorrow, but for now she’s stable. She’s in the ICU and will be there until further notice.

“Can we go see her?” Raven croaks, finally lifting her head from her hands. Her eyes are tinged red and Bellamy rests a hand on her shoulder.

The doctor shifts awkwardly on his feet. “Unfortunately, visitation hours in the ICU are over for non-relatives.” Immediately, there’s a chorus of protesting and Bellamy truly feels like this day can only get worse.

Raven’s about to say something about how she’s pretty damn close to family when Abby Griffin appears behind the surgeon. “Dr. Michaels,” she says sharply, and the doctor turns around quickly and kinda cowers. Fuck, Bellamy would cower at that tone too. “They’re with me. They’re not going to cause any trouble. They just want to see their friend. You won’t even know they’re there.” Bellamy didn’t know that Abby thought so highly of them, but there’s no way in hell that he’s gonna fight her on it. The doctor nods slowly, before giving them one more glance and leaving them with Abby.

Abby glances at the group, and her gaze lingers on Bellamy a bit longer than it should. It makes his stomach do funny things. “Raven, Bellamy. You’re with me. We’ll rotate through.”

Raven and Bellamy slowly follow Abby through the quiet halls of the hospital. When they get to the ICU floor, Bellamy suddenly has trouble breathing again. It’s very quiet up here, except for the beeping of the life support machines. It’s like you can hear a pin drop.

Abby stops them out of the room that Clarke is in. “She doesn’t look the greatest. She doesn’t look like Clarke,” she confesses, and Bellamy can see that this is taking a toll on her. Sometimes Bellamy forgets that she isn’t just a surgeon. She’s a mom, and right now her daughter is the patient. “She’s hooked up to several machines, and is currently using a ventilator. They closed her up tonight and they may have to go back in tomorrow morning, depending on how strong she is and if the surgery holds.” Bellamy can’t breathe. He can’t move.

And then the door opens and Raven hurries in, but he can’t make his feet move. He’s stuck, staring through the doorway into the room that holds an unconscious Clarke.

Finally, he takes a sharp breath and a short step into the room. Nothing could have prepared him for what he sees in front of him.

Clarke looks dead.

Her face is pale and she isn’t moving at all. The only reason he knows that she’s still alive is the heart monitor and the ventilator moving her chest up and down. Was it only this morning that he watched her sleep in his bed, only this morning that he held her? He swallows thickly and watches Raven swallow back her tears before sitting on one of the chairs. Bellamy lets out a strangled breath and crosses the room slowly, before taking the chair on the other side of her bed. He goes to hold her hand and nearly cracks when he finds that it’s cold.

Bellamy gets a closer look at her. She’s got cuts scattered across her face and there are very defined bruises on her cheeks. He assumes that there’s thousands more all around her body from the impact and the force of the seatbelt and airbag. Her arm is in a thick cast and her body looks very small underneath the blankets. She’s very pale and the ventilator is not helping the image of fucking _death_. Bellamy presses a kiss to her hand before holding it against his forehead.

Raven’s crying as she takes her other hand and Bellamy tries to give her a smile. He’s sure it looks more like a grimace. “She’ll be okay. She’s a fighter.” He doesn’t know if he’s reassuring himself or her. Raven tries to smile back, but it doesn’t quite work. Abby only paces the room, occasionally shooting Bellamy a glance. He doesn’t know what it means, but he doesn’t care to decipher it now.

Bellamy’s distraught. He’s never felt this kind of fear before. He’s in love with Clarke and she’s in the goddamn hospital. Everything is a mess. A few hours ago he was making dinner for the two of them, and now she’s getting fluids through a tube. A few hours ago he was ready to tell her everything, and now he doesn’t know if he can.

It’s quiet for a few minutes before a nurse knocks quietly. She frowns when she sees three people in the room. “Visitation is supposed to be over for non-family?”

“All family,” Abby barks harshly, and the nurse nods slowly, looking down at a clipboard.

“Okay. Well, I’m Jane, and I’m going to be Clarke’s nurse for the night. I’m going to be coming in every few hours to check bandages and monitors as well as her statistics.” She looks towards Bellamy and pauses. “Are you the boyfriend, husband?”

He freezes as his mouth drops open a little. “I—” Abby gives him wide eyes from behind the nurse and he gets the hint. “Yeah. I am.”

Jane doesn’t look convinced, but she nods anyways. “I assume you’ve heard the extent of her injuries?”

Bellamy nods quickly. “Please don’t say it again.”

“I understand,” she says comfortingly, and Bellamy swallows thickly. How can she understand this? He supposes that he probably shouldn’t bite her head off and get himself kicked out of the ICU, but he’s so wound up and angry and scared that he’s worried he’s going to say something stupid.

“Alright. If she’s strong enough tomorrow morning we might go back in and make sure that the surgery is going to hold. It hasn’t been decided yet, it all depends on how she holds up tonight. Hopefully, after the surgery we’ll be able to take her off of the ventilator later in the day or the next morning.” Bellamy nods and looks back to Clarke, holding her hand tighter. Jane talks in hushed tones to Abby for a moment before she finally leaves and Bellamy looks over towards Raven. He’s surprised to find that she’s smirking slightly, and he knows what’s coming to him.

“Don’t you dare. You _know_ I had to.”

“I do. Not going to stop me from telling her,” Raven teases slightly, and he rolls his eyes. When they both look back at Clarke, the mood drops and everything is quiet again.

After several more minutes of silence except for machines beeping, Abby walks over and places a hand on Bellamy’s shoulder. “We should let the others cycle through.”

As much as Bellamy doesn’t want to leave Clarke, he knows that the rest of their friends are waiting anxiously. He can come back. Bellamy nods and starts to stand, and Raven protests. “You stay. It’s okay,” he tells her, but she stands up defiantly. She’s giving him a _look_.

“You need to be in here, Bellamy.”

“Raven—”

She makes a face and he silent himself. “Don’t argue with me, Bellamy. You did just tell the nurse that you were her boyfriend, husband, whichever term you prefer.” Both terms make his chest feel warm, so honestly, either one is fine with him. “It’d be weird if you left, and I stayed.”

Bellamy tries to protest, but then Abby agrees with Raven and he knows he’s lost. It’s no use fighting both a Griffin and a Reyes. “She’s right, Bellamy.”

“I’ll come back as soon as everyone has gone through. Okay?” Raven reassures, glancing down at Clarke again. Bellamy finally nods, and sits down again slowly as Abby ushers Raven from the room.

Secretly, he’s relieved that he’s staying. He doesn’t think he could handle being out in the waiting room while knowing that she’s just through a few doors and up a few floors.

Bellamy yawns as he waits for his friends to circle through. It’s nearing midnight, and while the fear and anxiety hasn’t worn off, the adrenaline is starting to. But he’s got to stay awake.

A few minutes later, Octavia, Harper, and Emori enter the room. Octavia immediately gives Bellamy a tight hug. Harper glances at Clarke and can barely hold back her tears. Emori looks around the room, reading everything that the doctors have written down about Clarke’s condition. “How’re you holding up?

“Scared,” Bellamy admits quietly, looking back down at the blonde in the hospital bed. “Twelve hours ago, she was up and alive and fine and now she’s just…” Bellamy sucks in a sharp breath and blinks quickly to prevent himself from crying. He can’t do this now, not when three of her closest friends are in the room. They all need him to keep it together.

“I’m sure she’s going to be fine,” Octavia says quietly, before resting her hand on Bellamy’s shoulder. “I think we can all agree that we’re never letting her out of our sight again.” Him especially. He thinks about what his sister said last week about Clarke loving him and more dread settles in his stomach. If he had just stopped being fucking stupid and said something to her, maybe they wouldn’t be in this mess. Maybe she would’ve been late for work and had to leave later. It’s a lot of maybe’s, and those scare the hell out of him.

Emori manages a smile and crosses her arms over her chest. She chews at her lip and blinks back tears. “We talked to her this morning,” she chokes out, and Harper reaches out for her friend. “She was _fine_ this morning. I just—I don’t— _it’s not fair_ ,” Emori finally spits out and Bellamy can agree. This fucking sucks. There’s a permanent lump in his throat and it doesn’t feel like his stomach is going to unknot itself anytime soon.

The three of them eventually circle out, with a promise to stay in the hospital as long as they can. Octavia promises to bring Bellamy coffee, because they both know he’s not going anywhere.

Murphy, Monty, and Jasper are the next three through, and Murphy can barely contain his smirk. “Oh, so you’re Clarke’s new husband? When did this happen?” Bellamy rolls his eyes tiredly and flips him off.

“You can fuck with me when she’s awake and not in a hospital bed,” Bellamy manages, and Murphy sobers quickly, clapping a hand on Bellamy’s shoulder.

Monty and Jasper look down at Clarke and examine her injuries. “At least it wasn’t a severe head injury,” Monty mumbles, trying to be optimistic. “Concussions suck, but brain surgery is so much worse.”

Jasper nods quickly, being the light of positivity that they all need. “Monty’s right. It could’ve been so much worse. We just need to be thankful that it wasn’t.” Jasper looks down at Clarke and takes her free hand. “Alright, Clarke. You gotta wake up. Who’s gonna watch all of those shitty reality tv shows with me?”

Bellamy knows that it’s a joke, but he doesn’t find it funny right now. Monty and Jasper exit the room, but Murphy hangs back for a second. The two men are quiet for a second, and Bellamy’s scared to take his eyes off of Clarke just in case. He doesn’t want to ever stop looking. “How’re you feeling?”

Bellamy snorts a bit and runs a thumb over Clarke’s hand. He desperately hopes that she wakes up. He doesn’t know what else he can do to help besides sit here and pray to multiple gods that he doesn’t know if he believes in. “How the hell do you think I’m feeling?”

Murphy heaves a sigh. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. I don’t know what I’d do if it was Emori…” he trails for a moment. “I know it’s scary, man, but I think she’s gonna be fine. You can recover from intestinal rupture. She’ll be in the hospital for a couple weeks after she wakes up but her being asleep right now is the absolute best thing for her.”

Bellamy raises a brow and finally turns to face him. “How the hell do you know that?”

He shrugs. “I took a medical class with Clarke in college. It was one of my electives, but it was the most interesting class I took. She made fun of me all the time for being in there, but guess what Clarke? I know what I’m talking about.”

“There is no way that you can rub _this_ in her face,” Bellamy grumbles, and Murphy lets out a sigh.

Murphy thinks for a moment. “No, you’re probably right,” he replies quietly, glancing at Clarke again. “Abby’s waiting for me. I’m probably gonna be here most of the night, Emori looks about ready to sleep in the waiting room, so if you need a break you know where to find me.”

Huh. Who would’ve thought Murphy would be the most supportive.

Miller and Jackson are last through, and Jackson still looks shell-shocked. Miller does his best to be positive, but it’s obvious that he’s struggling. Jackson stares guiltily at his hands before looking back up at Bellamy. “I saw her when she came in,” Jackson says quietly, and Bellamy looks up. “We’re really lucky.”

He doesn’t have to say anything else for Bellamy to understand. That means it was really bad. It makes his stomach turn over again, and he blinks more tears out of his eyes as Jackson and Miller leave the room.

Eventually, Raven makes her way back in and Bellamy quickly wipes his face with the back of his hand. If Raven sees, she tactfully pretends she doesn’t. Bellamy’s grateful.

They sit in silence for what feels like a very long time. Then the realization dawns on him. “I let her leave this morning,” he manages, and Raven jerks her head up. “I let her go to work this morning and look where it got her.” Guilt pool in his stomach quickly, and suddenly he can’t look at the blonde in the bed.

“This is in no way your fault, Bellamy,” Raven tells him gently. “No one could have known what would happen. The police even said it was an accident.”

“If I had just delayed her for ten minutes, even driven her—” He takes a sharp breath and closes his eyes tightly. This is somehow his fault.

“Bellamy,” Raven repeats, and he lets out a shuddering breath. “She’s not going to blame you. She had to go to work, this is no one’s fault. You cannot beat yourself up about this. It’s not going to help her get better.”

He supposes that she’s right, but he can’t help thinking of the other scenarios. If he had just kept her at home for five minutes, maybe she wouldn’t be in this situation. They’d be at home, together, and everything would be how it’s supposed to be. Bellamy wants to kick himself. Logically, he knows it’s not his fault. But he’s practically hardwired to assume that everything is his fault when it comes to people that he loves because he couldn’t protect them.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admits, finally looking back at Clarke. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if she doesn’t—”

“Do _not_ ,” Raven snaps. “Do not think like that.” In this moment, he’s scared of Raven. But then she deflates, anger being too big of an emotion for the situation. “She’s gonna be fine. It’s Clarke. She’s gotta be fine.”

He’s not sure whether she’s trying to reassure him or herself.

* * *

 

Bellamy jerks awake around four in the morning from a fitful sleep.

He and Raven decided that there was no way in hell either of them was leaving Clarke. So Raven took the couch and he took the chair next to her bed. Abby’s in one of the on-call rooms down the hall, just in case. His eyes scope Clarke out, and he lets out a little breath of relief when he finds that her heart is still beating and she’s still breathing.

Bellamy rubs a hand over his eyes and slowly stands up. Sleeping in a chair is not doing great things to his back, but if it keeps him next to Clarke he doesn’t care. He stretches before looking back down at Clarke and examining her closely.

Now that it’s been a few hours, the bruises on her face look more defined. Terrible shades of blue and purple cover her pale skin, and the evidence of blood on her forehead taunts him. The cast on her arm makes her look weaker than before. The stitches peaking out from under her hospital gown make him feel sick. He doesn’t even know what she looks like underneath the gown.

Bellamy can’t stay here. He has to get out, he can’t breathe. The walls are closing in on him. He looks around in a panic for a moment before edging his way out the door as quickly and quietly as he can.

The hallways are dim and quiet with only a few nurses milling about. He’s grateful that no one is there to stop him. His breathing is quick and shallow and it feels like his body is closing in on him. Bellamy makes it to the bathroom and slams the door quickly, locking it behind him.

He braces his arms on the counter and tries to take several steadying breaths. It doesn’t help much, and he splashes water on his face to cool himself off.

Everything is wrong and Clarke is in the hospital and there’s nothing he can do. The pit of despair in his stomach has grown larger and larger as the hours have ticked by and now it feels like he’s being swallowed by it. There’s nothing he can do.

Bellamy glances at himself in the mirror and swallows thickly. He already looks like he’s been here for days. The grief and fear that he’s feeling is turning him into someone he doesn’t recognize, and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.

He watches his face crumple in the mirror, and then he can’t stop himself from crying. Harsh, scary sobs fall from him and he tries to muffle them but he’s not sure if it works. The last several hours’ worth of grief after finally spilling from him because everything feels hopeless. Who knows if she’s going to be okay after this? Who knows if she’s even going to wake up?

Bellamy cries for Clarke, and he cries for Abby. He cries for their friends waiting anxiously in their houses or the waiting room for any shred of news. He cries for his grief and for every bit of loss that he’s feeling.

He cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's no stopping how you feel when someone you love is hurt, no matter how hard they try
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clxrkeblxke!


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello back again! this chapter gave me unnecessary trouble, because believe it or not it's really hard to write Clarke in the hospital? i hate it. but like, it's necessary, so i hope y'all like it!
> 
> i don't have much else to say besides that once again, i'm so glad that y'all are enjoying the story! it really makes writing so much more fun and easy and i'm always excited to post a chapter because i know that y'all like to read them
> 
> so, enjoy! i've been wrestling with this for weeks, and i felt like i hit a roadblock with this one. it's probably filled with errors but idc because i'm tired of looking at it lmao

“Do you think she can hear us?”

Bellamy plays with a string on the hem of his shirt. “I dunno. I hope so.”

Jasper nods and settles into the other chair next to Clarke. He starts speaking quietly to her and Bellamy feels a little numb, still. Since his four AM trip to the bathroom he’s been feeling worse and worse about the situation. He tries to be positive about everything, but this is too much for him. It’s Clarke.

He, Monty, and Jasper are waiting to see if the school district cancels for the day because of the ice. All three of them slept at the hospital and Bellamy knows that the two of them are eager to get some sleep, but they’re staying with Bellamy out of solidarity. Hopefully, the district will cancel and the two of them can head home, but Bellamy knows he’s not going anywhere today.

Monty reaches towards his phone just as it dings. He lets out a breath, “school’s cancelled today again. They’re expecting us to be back tomorrow, though.”

Bellamy lets out a huff of air through his teeth and feels the slightest bit of relief flow through him. At least he won’t have to sit at school for the entire day wondering what’s going on. They’re probably opening her up again today and Bellamy doesn’t know if he could handle being at work and not the hospital.

Considering it’s 6 AM on a Thursday morning, Monty stands from the couch that Raven had previously occupied and grabs his coat. She’s currently scouring the hospital looking for some decent coffee. She woke up right after Bellamy got back to the room and decided that she couldn’t sleep anymore. Part of him wonders if she waited until she knew he was okay.

“Jasper, I think I’m going to head home for a little. Harper needs to get some sleep and she won’t go unless I go with her,” Monty tells Jasper quietly, and he nods.

“Yeah, go on. I’m gonna stay a little longer. Old Bellamy over here needs some company. Clarke’s probably tired of him,” Jasper says, and Bellamy reaches over to whack his head lightly. Jasper manages a smile, and Bellamy’s grateful that he’s offered to stay.

Bellamy scrubs at his face and glances at Clarke. She doesn’t look any better than she did two hours ago, she just looks worse and it tugs at his heart in so many ways. If he could take all of this from her he would. He’d do it in a heartbeat. He’d much rather be the one in the hospital bed, because he can’t stand it when she’s hurt.

Bellamy blinks the exhaustion out of his eyes and Jasper frowns at him. “Bellamy, man, I think you need to get some sleep.”

“I’m fine,” he says, rubbing his eyes and turning towards him. “Really.”

Jasper raises a brow. “Really.”

Bellamy nods. “Really.”

“Then tell me, Bellamy. Why do you look like a horse has just smashed your face in?”

“Is this your way of telling me I look like shit?” Bellamy asks, and Jasper makes a face.

“Dude, you gotta take care of yourself. I know that better than anyone,” Jasper counters, and Bellamy swallows because he’s right. A few years ago, Jasper was in a really bad place and he struggled for several months with depression. He eventually pulled through, and he’s taken everything that he learned then to heart. “So you not sleeping is not doing any good to you or to Clarke.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and tries to stifle a yawn. “I slept last night, Jasper.”

“Obviously not enough,” Bellamy scoffs and runs a hand through his hair. “Look, just lay down for a couple hours. You don’t even have to sleep, you just need to close your eyes. I’ll wake you if anything happens. Just—please for the love of god keep yourself healthy. We cannot have both of you down for the count.

Bellamy clenches his jaw and looks down at Clarke again. She’s still unconscious or asleep, he doesn’t really know which one, but it doesn’t look like she’s going to wake up anytime soon. And Jasper will probably wrestle him onto the couch if he doesn’t lay down, so Bellamy sighs quietly. “Fine. I’ll lay down. You wake me up if anything happens, yeah?”

Jasper salutes him tiredly. “You got it, captain. Anything.”

Bellamy looks over at Clarke and scrubs at his face again before leaning over to kiss her forehead. He selfishly hopes that she’d wake up to that, but she stays just as still as she did before. Jasper looks away and pretends to read one of Clarke’s monitors. Bellamy appreciates it.

He finally stands and stumbles over to the small couch. Jasper whispers to Clarke and Bellamy vaguely makes out the words “he’s a fucking dumbass, Clarke, thinking he can stay awake for twenty-four hours”. He can’t find it within him to tell him off, because he’s honestly right. He is a fucking dumbass for trying to stay awake so long. But for Clarke, he’ll do everything he has to and more.

Bellamy doesn’t think that sleep will come, but it does. It’s another fitful sleep, but it’s a sleep.

* * *

 

Octavia wakes him up a couple hours later and he’s incredibly groggy. Everything is still numb and he doesn’t exactly feel the greatest. He knows it’s because of the stress and the lack of sleep and the downright fear that still coursing through him, but it sucks.

“Hey,” she says, nudging his shoulder gently, “doctor’s coming up in a minute. Figured you’d want to be awake.”

Bellamy nods and rubs his hands over his face, taking a deep breath. Yep, he’s still in the hospital. The smell of the ICU is probably going to haunt him fo the rest of his life. He manages to sit himself up and looks over at Clarke, who looks the same. The bruises are looking a little more purple and he hates it, but there’s nothing he can do about it.

Dr. Michaels and Abby enter and the group in the room quiets. Currently, it’s Bellamy, Octavia, and Raven, and Bellamy assumes that Jasper has gone home to get some sleep as well. Dr. Michaels checks a couple monitors before turning to everyone. “Alright, well I’ve got some good news.”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t have any bad news,” Raven mumbles, and Octavia shushes her.

Dr. Michaels glances down at Clarke’s clipboard before looking up. “Last night we let her arm settle in a split. Now that the swelling has gone down we’ve been able to get a closer look at it and the break doesn’t look as severe as we originally thought. It looks like she has a transverse fracture in both bones but the one in her radius is not as bad. She’ll have to be in a cast for four to six weeks, which we will set whenever she wakes up.”

“You’re optimistic she’s going to wake up?” Octavia asks sharply, and Bellamy feels his stomach drop. He had forgotten they weren’t sure when or if she was going to wake up.

“Her vitals look good, and there’s nothing that’s given us reason to think that she’s not going to wake up,” Dr. Michaels says, and Bellamy runs a hand through his hair. “We’re about to take her for more scans to check how the surgery is holding, and from there we’ll determine whether or not we want to open her up again.”

“What are the reasons that you would go back in?” Raven asks, and Dr. Michaels sighs a bit.

“So far, we’ve seen no reason to open her up again, but this is just procedure. Obviously in the next couple days we’ll be monitoring her very closely, and when she wakes up she’ll most likely be in the hospital for the seven to nine days following. Clearly she has a lot of people who care about her, so we know that she’s in good hands once she leaves here.”

Yeah, Bellamy’s never letting her out of his sight again. Raven and Octavia ask a couple more questions, and Bellamy knows he should probably listen, but he’s tuned it out. The words good news repeat in his head, and it is good news. The fact that her arm isn’t as broken as they thought is fantastic news! But she still isn’t awake, and that’s killing him. He just wants to hear her voice again, he wants to see her awake.

Dr. Michaels answers his friend’s questions, before announcing that they’re taking Clarke for a couple more scans. Bellamy almost wants to protest, but he knows it’s best if they run a few more tests on her. He keeps telling himself that it’s only gonna help her get better. So he gives her hand one last squeeze before they wheel her out.

He rubs his face and for a second, he thinks that he’s feeling okay.

And then Abby asks to talk to him.

His stomach is on the goddamn floor.

Abby _never_ wants to speak to just him.

Bellamy follows her quietly out of the ICU and into the hallway with regular rooms. He shoves his hands into his pockets and tries not to feel like he wants to pass out. Because Abby has never asked to speak to him individually. He assumes that she just wants to know what he knows, which is little to nothing.

He doesn’t think that he can repeat what he knows about the accident again. The two stand quietly for a couple moments, before Abby speaks up. “How are you feeling, Bellamy?”

Bellamy raises his brows. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Abby tips her head a bit and looks down at her feet. “I’m a doctor. I see this all the time. It’s different when it’s my daughter, but I know the staff of this hospital is exceptional and I know that they’re doing everything they can. I’m asking you because you haven’t left my daughter’s side since she got here.”

He can almost feel his skin flushing. She’s got a point. He slept in the chair next to her bed all night for god’s sake. Bellamy looks at his feet and swallows. He’s knows that she’s not going to accept anything but the truth. “I’m… it’s been a lot.”

Abby nods. “Understandable. It’s a hard thing to go through. But it’s obvious that you care a great deal for her.”

“I do,” he mumbles, wondering if Abby can see exactly how much he cares for her daughter. He’s been pretty fucking transparent about his feelings for Clarke in the last few days, so he would bet that everyone in the goddamn hospital knows how he feels. “I care about her very much.”

Clarke’s mother nods again. “It’s very clear to me.” Well damn, Abby just outed him on so many different levels. “It’s also very clear to me that you two are good for each other.” Now, Bellamy’s brows furrow as she continues, “her last relationship was obviously not the best one, so knowing that she has you—”

“Oh—”

“—it makes me very happy to know that she can count on you. I was against it at first, but—”

“Abby,” Bellamy tries again, but she keeps going. God, Clarke really is this woman’s daughter, neither of them let him ever get a word in.

“—you’ve proved me wrong, Bellamy.” He clamps his mouth shut at those words and processes the implication of what she’s saying. First of all, Abby thinks that they’re together. And second of all, Bellamy _somehow_ proved her wrong despite him not dating her daughter like she thinks. This entire week is spiraling out of whack. “Clarke has always told me that you’re a great person, and truthfully I didn’t believe it until a few weeks ago. So thank you.”

“You—you’re welcome?” Bellamy says, his voice tipping up in a question. What the hell is happening? What made her suddenly decide that she liked him? What is going on? “Abby, uh, Clarke and I—we aren’t together.” He manages, even though he so desperately wishes they were.

Now Abby’s brows are the ones to fly off of her face. “Oh?”

“Yeah.”

She chews at her lip like Clarke does and Bellamy stands awkwardly in the hallway. A nurse passes them, and suddenly he remembers where he is. Right. Clarke’s in the hospital. Clarke’s still unconscious. Great. “Oh, well—I-I did not know that. I just assumed—” Abby says, and then stops abruptly. He doesn’t think that she looks embarrassed, but she does have the exact look on her face that Clarke gets when she has an idea.

“No bother,” Abby says quickly, “we should probably get back. They’ll have her scans soon, and I want to see this.” Bellamy has whiplash from the routes that this conversation has taken. “But, Bellamy?”

“Yes ma’am?” He says, turning to face her as she leads the way back to Clarke’s room.

“I meant what I said.” Bellamy clenches his jaw a bit, and Abby continues slowly. “Even if you two aren’t together, which frankly, I don’t know if I believe.”

Fucking _whiplash_.

Looks like he can’t understand not one, but _two_ Griffin women.

But as soon as they get back to Clarke’s room, his confused mood drops and it’s back to feeling like he can’t breathe. That feeling is beginning to feel normal.

A little while later, Clarke’s brought back to her room with surprisingly, more good news. They don’t have to open her up again. The compression on his chest lifts a little. The surgery is holding, and it looks like she’s healing exactly how they would expect for someone who very recently experienced a trauma like this. They’re still going to monitor her and keep her in the ICU until further notice, but it’s good enough for Bellamy.

He collapses into the chair next to Clarke’s bed and reaches for her hand again. Raven takes the other one, and suddenly it’s like a repeat of the previous night.

He’s a little less scared, and a lot more anxious, but he’s not alone.

* * *

 

Around three, Monty calls him. “How’s it going there?”

Bellamy sighs and looks at Octavia and Raven, both of whom are staring off into space. He then looks at Clarke, who still hasn’t fucking moved. Not even a flutter of an eyelash. “About the same as it was this morning. Lincoln and Shaw are on their way, though.”

“Harper and I are gonna come back later in the evening. Did Murphy and Emori ever go home?”

Bellamy shrugs, and loosely plays with Clarke’s fingers. “Not sure. I haven’t been out to the waiting room. I’m sure he eventually got her home.” They’ll be back though. He’s sure of that.

Monty’s quiet for a moment and then, “we have school tomorrow.”

Bellamy closes his eyes momentarily and then groans. “When you come back up can you bring my laptop? I have to get a sub.” Now Monty’s quiet, and Bellamy detects an ominous vibe even through the phone. “What?”

“Bellamy, we can’t get subs the day before a school break. District policy.”

He’s pretty convinced that everything shatters, again. “Fuck.”

“Yeah. Fuck.” The universe officially hates him. “Maybe—is there any other teacher that can cover for you?”

Bellamy wracks his brains, but he’s coming up empty. The panic is back in full force, and he’s having trouble catching his breath. “I don’t—fuck, Monty, I’m the only one who teaches AP World. I have to go in.”

Monty tumbles over his words for a second and Bellamy just wants to freeze time so that he can fucking figure out a solution, because he cannot leave. He physically does not think he’s going to be able to get his ass out of the hospital. Because he knows Clarke is here and he knows her condition and he knows he needs to be there.

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna make some calls. See if there’s any exception. I’ll call you back.”

Bellamy nods numbly, and then lets out a heavy sigh. Everything is crumbling again, and there’s nothing he can do.

Raven gets a phone call, and Bellamy assumes that it’s Shaw because her face goes a little soft, and then it’s just him and Octavia and it’s like the room is closing in on him again.

“Bell? You alright?”

His hands are shaking again and he shoves them both in his pockets so she won’t see. “I’m fine.”

“Bellamy.” Octavia says sternly, standing up from her spot on the couch and crossing to him. “What’s going on?”

He struggles over his words and then finally— “I love her so much. I love her so much, and I don’t know if she’s going to be okay.”

It’s the first time he’s said it out loud, and it feels so _wrong_ because he should be saying it to Clarke. But he can’t because she was in a car accident and now she’s unconscious. He can’t because he doesn’t know if she’s going to be okay. He feels like everything is crushing him again.

His sister frowns a little and Bellamy sucks in a short breath. He feels her hands grip onto his shoulders and he manages to open his eyes. “Bellamy,” Octavia says gently, “you know I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ve listened to Abby and the doctors. They’re optimistic, Bell. That’s more than we could have hoped for her, given the injuries she has.”

Bellamy swallows thickly and looks at Clarke, his hand still gripped tightly around hers. This is so fucking hard and he wants it to be over. He wants her to be awake again. “I just—” He doesn’t even know what he wants to say.

“I know,” Octavia says quietly, “I know. It sucks, and it’s not fair, and frankly I’m pissed off that we’re even in this situation. But you love her, and that combined with the doctors has got to be enough to get her to wake up.”

Bellamy can’t stop himself from huffing out a laugh. “Jesus, that has got to be the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said.”

“I’m a cheesewad at heart,” Octavia grumbles, but he can tell she’s smiling a little bit. There haven’t been many smiles to go around in the last twenty-four hours, so he’s gonna take what he can get. “This sucks at any time, but it’s unfortunate that it happened now. I’m sorry, Bellamy.”

He shrugs, because sorry doesn’t help the situation. “I wish I was the one in a car accident.”

“Don’t say that,” Octavia groans, lifting her hands from his shoulders. “You know she’d be an absolute mess—”

“Yeah, but she’d be fucking awake and safe and that’s all I give a shit about right now.”

His sister sits in the chair on the other side of Clarke’s bed and stares miserably at her friend in the bed. “She’s gotta be okay,” she mumbles, “I don’t want to imagine not having her here.”

“Me neither,” Bellamy replies, and he’s feeling more and more miserable by the second.

The only thing that he feels somewhat okay about is that he finally said it out loud. He told someone that he loves Clarke, even though that someone already knew. But it’s enough to make him feel better for now.

* * *

 

Monty calls back later, and he’s unfortunately the bearer of bad news.

“They said that they’d make an exception if you could find a sub, but there are no subs available for tomorrow on short notice. Bellamy, I’m sorry,” Monty says, and Bellamy feels the lump in his throat make a reappearance.

He doesn’t have a choice, he has to go to school tomorrow. He has to leave Clarke. That’s enough to make his head spin. But he doesn’t want Monty to know that, and clears his throat.

“No, you’re good, Monty. It’s fine, thank you for trying,” he forces out, and Monty spews his apologies as he goes. “I’m serious, it’s fine. I appreciate it.”

When he hangs up, Raven raises a brow. “You good?”

Bellamy takes a shaky breath and puts his phone on Clarke’s bed. “I have to go into school tomorrow. I can’t get a sub.”

Raven’s face drains of color for a second, and then she looks like she’s been punched in the gut. “Fuck, really?” He nods. “Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

It’s quiet in the room for a few moments, before Shaw speaks up. “Maybe it’ll be good for you to go home for a little. Take a shower, try to get some sleep. Maybe you’d feel a little better.” Bellamy appreciates it, but there’s no way in hell he’s going to be able to get a wink of sleep tonight, even if he’s in his own bed.

Raven nods as Shaw plays with her fingers absentmindedly. “I think he’s right. You smell like a hospital and cheap coffee.”

“Fuck off,” Bellamy grumbles. “I just don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to get through tomorrow.”

“Throw on a movie and call it a day,” Shaw suggests, and Bellamy leans back in his chair a little. “Actually, maybe not. Isn’t that what teachers do when they’re hungover?”

Bellamy snorts a bit and scrubs at his face. The stubble present there is driving him crazy, but he doesn’t have enough energy to shave it off yet. “Usually, yeah. Who’s to say I’m not going to be hungover tomorrow?”

“Bellamy Blake the last thing you need is to be drinking,” Raven scolds, and Bellamy manages a grin.

“I know,” he replies, trying to ignore the very real fact that he’s not going to be here tomorrow. The room is silent for a little longer, before Shaw finally stands. “Alright. Raven told me I have to walk you to your car because she’s afraid you’re going to pass out.”

“Hey! You weren’t supposed to tell him that,” Raven grumbles, and Shaw only smiles fondly at her. Bellamy has to look away. “Seriously though walk him to his car. Can’t have him passing out, too.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Bellamy asks, and both Raven and Shaw shake their heads. “Fuck you guys.”

Raven rolls her eyes and looks back at Clarke. “You know she’s gonna be pissed when she finds out you haven’t slept more than four hours since she’s been here. She’s gonna light your ass on fire. So I suggest—”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I’m threatening to tell her,” Raven says smugly, and Bellamy loses his fight. Clarke does not need to know that he spent multiple hours sitting in this chair without any haste to leave. It’ll somehow stress her out, despite her being the one who’s in the hospital.

He tips his head into a nod, and then sighs. “Just—just give me a minute?” Raven raises a brow, but then nods in understanding.

“Yeah. We can wait down the hall. Just poke your head out when you’re ready to leave,” she squeezes his shoulder and then ushers Shaw out quietly, leaving Bellamy alone with Clarke.

Despite how many hours he’s spent in this room, this is the first time it’s just been the two of them. He finds it hard to swallow as he takes Clarke’s hand again and presses a kiss to her knuckles. His words are shaky when he says, “please wake up. Just—just do _something_ to tell me that you’re alive. Move in your sleep, steal the blanket, kick me for all I care, just something,” he pleads quietly, but there’s no response.

Frustration grows in him like a fire, but Bellamy knows he can’t get angry. This isn’t her fault. She’s just healing, and she’s still asleep. That’s all it is. The monitors beside her bed tell him that she’s still alive. He just wants to see her open her eyes. He wants to hold her and tell her that everything’s gonna be okay, that he’s gonna take care of her.

He wants to _love_ her.

Bellamy presses another soft kiss to her knuckles before dropping her hand gently back onto her bed. The bruises on her skin are slowly turning more and more purple, and it’s hard for him to look at, but he doesn’t want to ever turn away again. Just in case.

He nearly bores his eyes into hers, willing her to wake up. Just wake up.

But she stays where she is, and he feels a little defeated. There’s nothing else he can do. He leans over and presses another kiss to her forehead and swats under his eyes angrily. He fucking hates crying. He’s cried more in the last twenty-four hours than he has in the last ten years, and it’s terrible.

He waits for an extra second by the door, just in case something happens, but nothing does. The compression on his chest is back, and his stomach is in knots about leaving her behind. He knows he’s not really leaving her behind, but god, it feels like he’s leaving her on another planet.

Getting home is another ordeal.

For a split second, he’s happy to be home. Until he sees Clarke’s favorite blanket on the couch, and then it’s like everything is crumpling again.

Bellamy puts a little food in his mouth, deliberately ignoring the meal that he and Clarke were supposed to eat the night of the accident. He’s gonna toss that as soon as he gets the energy to. He stumbles into the shower and numbly cleans himself up. He shaves, and feels a bit more like himself again.

But then he sees his bed, and he’s immediately brought back to Clarke laying in it the morning of the accident. He can almost see her head on one of his pillows, her body tugging the blankets around her tighter. It hurts Bellamy’s heart like nothing else has.

He swallows thickly and pulls a few of the extra blankets off, because he doesn’t need them all now. He only grabbed that many because Clarke was shivering, even though he knew he’d warm her up quickly.

Bellamy can’t believe that all of this has happened in less than forty-eight hours. It feels like an eternity. Sleep doesn’t come easily, and before he knows it, it’s the next morning and he has to go to work. He doesn’t know if he slept a wink.

* * *

 

Raven promised that she’d call him if anything happened, but he still feels uneasy being at school and not the hospital. Yeah, it’s the Friday before Thanksgiving break and they already aren’t doing anything, but he feels like he needs to be at the hospital. They’re taking her off of the ventilator at some point this morning, and they’re hoping that she’ll wake up on her own in the hours following. He wishes he was there. It had taken a lot for them to get him to go home at all, but now all he wants is to be back.

They’re optimistic that she’s going to wake up sometime soon, but they have no idea about how her condition will change once she has woken up. It stresses him out. His students can tell that he’s distracted, and they try not to bring it up, but it’s obvious that they’re curious. Especially when he just puts on a video for the first half of each class.

Raven texts him around eleven, saying that they’ve taken her off of the ventilator and that she’s been doing well with breathing on her own. He feels a little relief seep into his body, but it’s quickly replaced with more stress.

Lunch with Monty and Jasper is spent in tense silence. The three of them continually check their phones for any information, but still find nothing.

“She might not even wake up today,” Jasper finally says as they clean up lunch. “Maybe it’s better that way. She’ll have more time to heal cause don’t you heal more when you’re asleep?”

Monty nods and glances at Bellamy. “He’s got a point.”

Bellamy sighs and tries to look at it optimistically, but he can’t. All he wants is for her to open her eyes. He just wants to see physical evidence that she’s alive. “I just want her to wake up,” he admits quickly, and Monty and Jasper exchange a glance. “I can’t—I can’t imagine her not being here.”

“She’s not gonna die,” Jasper says quickly. “They said that she got through the worst of it.”

“Yeah but what if everything’s wrong when she wakes up? Car accidents are traumatic, what if—”

“These what if statements are not going to help you, Bellamy,” Monty says sharply, and Bellamy looks up at his tone.

“I know, it’s just—”

“It’s Clarke,” Jasper finishes, and Bellamy nods. “We know that your ability to think logically kind of goes out the window when thinking about Clarke.” Bellamy makes a face, and Jasper manages a smile despite the situation. It’s the first time today that the hunk of lead in his stomach has chipped away.

One of his students finally cracks with curiosity after lunch. He’s waiting on his students to finish the usual Friday reading quiz when Derek comes up to his desk. “Mr. Blake?”

“What’s up?”

“Are you okay? You look kinda green.”

Bellamy scrubs at his face and ignores the buzzing in his pocket. He knows it’s Raven, but he can’t answer it at the moment. “I’m fine, Derek.”

“Are you sure?” The tenth grader raises a skeptical brow, and Bellamy sighs.

The buzzing continues as Bellamy manages a few words. “One of my very close friends was in a car accident Wednesday night, and it’s just been a long couple days.”

Derek nods, and his eyes skim Bellamy’s desk quickly. “One of them?” Bellamy’s eyes lock onto the picture of Clarke and Octavia he has on his desk. It’s the only picture he has of the two of them, and it’s one from their college graduation. They both look so much younger, but so happy. He loves this picture of them, and coincidentally, he loves both of them too.

Bellamy finally nods. “Yeah. One of them. I think she’s okay, but we’re still waiting.”

His student nods again, finally looking at Bellamy. “I’m sorry. Car accidents suck,” Derek says seriously, and Bellamy nods in agreement. Derek was one of his least favorite students at the beginning of the semester, but he’s finally grown on him. He reminds Bellamy of himself when he was in high school.

His phone buzzes again as Derek goes back to his seat, and Bellamy finally pulls it out and places it on his desk. He’s almost scared to look. He sees a couple messages from Raven, and a phone call from Octavia, but he doesn’t know if he wants to open them now.

What if it’s bad news? He can’t get bad news at one-thirty in the afternoon. His heart pounds as he locks his phone and puts it back in his pocket.

Throughout the last two hours of the day, his phone burns a hole in his pocket. Bellamy knows it’s there, and he knows that something has happened, but he almost doesn’t want to know what. The minutes pass painstakingly, and Bellamy finds himself fiddling with his phone but refusing to read any of the messages.

Finally, after two and a half hours of absolute terror, Bellamy’s walking out to his truck. He sees that Jasper and Monty’s cars are still there and takes a deep breath before unlocking his phone. Bellamy ignores all of the messages and quickly calls Raven. She picks up a second into the first ring.

“Where the hell have you been?” She nearly yells, and he winces.

“At school,” Bellamy replies as calmly as he can. “I saw you were texting, but I didn’t know if it was good news or bad news, and I didn’t want to get bad news that early in the day.”

Raven groans and he hears her moving around. “That’s fair, but you gave us all a heart attack, and I don’t think we needed another one.”

“Raven, I’m sorry,” he says apologetically as he tosses his backpack into the passenger seat of his truck. “I just couldn’t do it today.”

She grumbles into the phone, but eventually sighs. “I know. I get it. We just—we didn’t need any more problems. We thought you had gotten abducted, or something.” Bellamy’s heartrate spikes as he waits for her next words. “She’s awake, Bellamy.”

For a moment, Bellamy literally cannot breathe. His throat has closed and his heart is pounding so violently it’s like it’s going to burst out of his chest. “What?”

“Well, she’s kind of awake,” Raven clarifies, “she’s been coming in and out of it for the past couple hours. She’s… she’s been asking for you, Bellamy. I don’t think she knows she’s been asking for you, but—” Bellamy’s lungs freeze up and his brain is unable to process the words that Raven has said. His hands start shaking again. “Bellamy?”

“I’m here,” he replies, trying to control the shake in his voice.

“You need to get to the hospital before she wakes up again. The last time she was really scared and I think you’re the only one who she wants to see,” Raven says quietly, and Bellamy swallows.

He nods to himself before getting ready to drive. “I’m on the way. Be there as soon as I can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah, yes, another dreaded cliffhanger. we'll see how this goes soon!
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clxrkeblxke!


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone! these next few chapters are jam packed with content and i am SO. EXCITED. this is also one of my favorite chapters, like i grew to love it as i wrote it, so i hope that y'all also enjoy!
> 
> also, as we can all tell, this story is getting close to the end (oh my god i'm gonna cry) BUT that means that i have more one-shots and fics to post! i have a question tho: i have a married at first sight au in my drafts that's a multichapter, but i've recently been watching love island and obviously my head was like alarm bells saying bellarke au. drop me a message on tumblr or a comment on which you would like the most! i like both of the ideas, but i'm curious as to which readers would like more. thanks in advance!
> 
> enjoy!

The familiar walk to the ICU and to Clarke’s room takes longer than he wants it to. It’s still deathly quiet in the ICU and for a moment he worries that Raven lied to him and that something bad actually happened. The thought makes him speed up, his footsteps echoing in the hallways.

When he approaches Clarke’s room, he hears quiet voices coming from inside. He identifies Octavia and Abby, but no one else. He’s about to enter when he hears move footsteps from behind him, and he turns quickly.

Raven looks incredibly tired. There are dark circles under her eyes and he knows that she hasn’t slept since she got the call. Bellamy knows that Shaw eventually convinced her to go home, but he can tell that it didn’t do any good.

“Hey,” her voice even sounds exhausted. “Are you okay?”

Bellamy raises a brow. “You’re asking me if I’m okay?”

Raven makes a face and takes a sip of the travel mug in her hand. “I mean yeah, you look like you’ve been run over by a train.”

Bellamy flicks her shoulder and swallows the anxious feeling in his throat. “Yeah, like you can’t say the same thing.” He pauses and looks at the door. “How—how is she?”

Raven shrugs a little bit. “We’re still figuring that out. The first time she woke up it was pretty much just her asking for water before she fell asleep again. The doctors say that that’s normal when a patient’s been asleep for an extended period of time.” Bellamy nods and waits for her to continue. “The second time… she was so scared, Bellamy.”

The sadness in Raven’s voice is palpable and Bellamy wants to cry again. “Scared?” He manages to choke out, and Raven nods and looks at her feet.

“She didn’t really know where she was, or how she got there. Again, the doctors said that it’s normal for a patient to not remember the traumatic event that put them in the hospital, but getting her to calm down enough to fall asleep again was hell. She asked for you, more like yelled for you, apparently you’re a calming presence for her—” Bellamy frowns, and Raven continues quickly. “We didn’t know what to do besides tell her that she’s okay and that you were going to be here soon. Which you are, so—”

Bellamy nods and processes everything he’s just heard. Not only is she waking up, she’s asking for him. He doesn’t know why she’s asking or what she needs, but he doesn’t care. She’s awake. He’s still insanely nervous and still feels like he wants to puke, but at least he knows she’s been awake. “C’mon. They think she’s gonna wake up for good next time.”

He takes a tight breath and nods before following in. Raven opens the door with her hip and he steps quietly to find Abby sitting on the couch, with Octavia in the chair. “Any change?”

“She rolled over onto her side,” Octavia announces, and Bellamy swings his eyes to the blonde in the bed. “Hey, Bellamy.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat to signal that he heard his sister. He only has eyes for Clarke right now. She’s curled up into herself on the bed, which is a welcome change from her lying deathly still on her back. The bruises on her body are blossoming into sharper blues and purples, and she looks incredibly frail and tiny in the bed. The splint it still resting on her arm tightly and he can see the bandages covering most of her left side. But she’s breathing on her own. She’s alive. They’re sure she’s going to wake up again.

Hope fills him, and he slowly sits down on the extra chair. And he waits. 

* * *

 

Everything hurts, and everything is fuzzy.

That’s all that Clarke can comprehend as she comes out of the cloud. She’s not really sure which way is up, and everything is spiraling, but she’s at least she feels somewhat grounded.

There’s a dull pain that’s spread through her entire body, and it feels like someone’s shoved cotton in her mouth. But she can feel all of her fingers and all of her toes, and even though her head hurts, she can feel that too.

Clarke hears muted voices from around her, but she’s still too groggy and cloudy to recognize them. She shifts in her bed, trying to get more comfortable, and the voices halt. She thinks that it would be so easy to fall back asleep and wake up another time, but the need for water is too much.

So she opens her eyes, blinking the cloud and confusion away.

It’s very bright in the room, and Clarke tries to press her face back into her pillow. The room goes dimmer outside of her cocoon, and everything is still so fuzzy.

“Clarke?” A voice says, and she only grumbles in the back of her throat. “Clarke, sweetheart, we need you to open your eyes.”

Her mom.

Clarke slowly peels her eyes back open and blearily sees her mother standing at the side of her bed. She blinks quickly to stay awake. “Mom?”

Abby nods and squeezes Clarke’s hand lightly. “Yeah. I’m here. You’re okay, you’re at the hospital.”

The hospital? “What?” Clarke mumbles, burying her head back into her pillow.

“Clarke, you were in an accident,” Abby says quietly, and Clarke’s eyes spring open. “It was a couple days ago, and—” but she’s not listening anymore, because the word accident rings in her ears.

Accident.

It comes rushing back.

Clarke doesn’t remember the accident itself, but she remembers the seconds before she got hit. The car coming at her from the side, the headlights nearly blinding her. The immediate impact. It goes fuzzy after that. She doesn’t even know how she got to the hospital. She just knows that there was a lot of pain, and more blood then she’d like to remember.

Her vision blurs with unshed tears of pain and confusion and the room fills with quiet, frantic voices again. Another hand takes hers, and this one she recognizes almost instantly. Bellamy.

Bellamy’s here.

The tears in her eyes ease a little, because if Bellamy’s here, it means she’s safe. It means that he’s gonna make sure she’s okay. Clarke manages to clear her eyes to see him, and then she wants to cry again because he really is here.

He looks exhausted and scared, but he’s here.

Her mother straightens up before glancing at Bellamy. “We’re going to go get your doctor. If you need anything, Bellamy’s going to stay here.” She thinks that her mother ushers Raven and Octavia out of the room, but she’s not sure because she can’t stop looking at Bellamy.

Clarke manages a nod before her eyes close again, and Bellamy’s grip on her hand tightens a bit. She tries to curl closer to where he’s sitting, but her face wrinkles when her abdomen erupts in a flare of pain. “You had surgery,” Bellamy whispers, and Clarke looks at him. “They—they said that you’re gonna be fine. But that’s why it hurts.” She knows that she’ll hear more specifics later, and she’s grateful that he only chose to tell her that she had surgery. Her head is spinning.

Clarke swallows thickly, her throat dry. “I need,” her voice is soft and scratchy from disuse but Bellamy looks up like it’s the greatest sound he’s ever heard. “Water. I need water.”

He looks beside himself looking for water, and then grabs one of the cups on the table next to her bed. Bellamy slowly helps her sit up and helps her drink. “Small sips,” he murmurs gently, putting a hand on her back to support her. “The doctors still need to check you out.”

Clarke nods and takes a few cautious sips, just enough to wet her mouth before she pushes it away. He obliges quickly and puts the cup away before sitting back down. It’s like everything is moving in slow motion, she’s still unsure if this is real or not. “I’m alive?”

Bellamy lets out a shaky breath and laugh. “You’re alive, thank god,” he tells her, and Clarke nods. He lifts her hand and presses a kiss to it, and then she can’t stop it, she’s crying. “Hey,” he whispers, “hey, no. You’re okay. Clarke—”

“I was in a fucking car accident—”

“—but you’re okay,” Bellamy interrupts, “Clarke, you’re okay. It wasn’t your fault. It was just the ice on the roads.”

“But, b-but—” tears are streaming down her cheeks and she can’t get herself to calm down, everything is rushing in at once and everything hurts. She doesn’t know what happened to her or what’s going to happen to her, and it sucks and she’s scared out of her mind. Bellamy releases her hand and for a moment she wants to cry more, until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching for her.

He’s careful with her body, considering there are a million tubes and wires connecting her to the monitors, but she caves into him. Clarke presses her face into his neck the best she can and lets herself cry. She feels his arms carefully wrap around her back, pulling her as close to him as possible without hurting her. Clarke’s head pounds and the wound on her abdomen pulls a little, but she doesn’t care.

She wants to go home, and home is with Bellamy.

The reality of this situation hits her, and she realizes that she almost died. He hasn’t said it, but the look on his face when she saw him says a thousand words. She could be dead right now. But she’s not. She’s alive, she’s okay, and she’s with Bellamy. The rest of her friends are here. Her mom is here.

Clarke releases another small cry, and Bellamy soothes her quietly. “Shh,” he murmurs, his hand bracing in her hair. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

She nods slowly, and pulls back. He still looks so concerned, so she manages a smile. Bellamy gives her one back, before surprising her. He leans over and presses a swift kiss to her forehead, and her eyes close at the feeling. “Scared the hell out of me, Clarke,” Bellamy whispers into her hair, and Clarke blinks to prevent the tears. “But it’s not your fault, and you’re okay. You’re a little banged up but they’re thinking that you’re gonna be fine.”

Clarke swallows tightly and rests her forehead on his sternum. “I’m sorry,” she mutters.

“Why are you apologizing?” Bellamy asks gently, his hand running soothingly over her shoulder blades.

“I was in an accident.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he replies. “This was no one’s fault.”

She blinks again and chews at her lip. “I should’ve listened to you, it wasn’t safe to drive—”

“Clarke,” Bellamy says quietly, “this is not your fault. No one could have known.”

“But—”

“Clarke,” he says sternly, but gently at the same time. She quiets and closes her eyes, and a few tears escape her. She takes a shuddering breath, and everything hurts. “This was no one’s fault. I need you to tell me that you understand that. The other driver is okay. You’re awake, and okay. No one’s fault.”

Finally, she nods against his chest. She doesn’t know if she believes it, but if Bellamy says it then it must be true. “I wanna lay down,” she whispers, and Bellamy nods.

Slowly, he helps her lay back down. His thumbs brush away the remaining tears on her cheeks just as the doctor and her mother return. Octavia and Raven follow, and the two of them are immediately glued to her other side. They don’t say anything yet, but she knows there will be time for talking in a little.

Clarke listens with shock as her doctor, Dr. Michaels, recounts everything that has happened to her. Fractured arm, concussion, and a goddamn intestinal rupture. She’s not going to be able to eat solid food for two weeks! She’s on a strict clear liquid diet for the next three days, and then after that they’re going to graduate her to a soft food diet, and then finally she’ll be able to eat her food again.

They’re going to keep her in the hospital until next Friday, and Clarke realizes with sadness that she’s going to miss another Thanksgiving. Don’t get her wrong, she’s glad that they’re going to be taking care of her for a week, but she didn’t want to miss Thanksgiving after the fiasco of last year. It seems that her friends don’t really mind right now.

“We’re going to be taking you for multiple rounds of testing between now and the day that you’re discharged, just to make sure everything is healing up correctly. Once home, it looks like you’re going to be very well taken care of by your family and your friends, so we don’t feel the need to assign an in-home nurse. And you being a nurse yourself helps, because you know what’s coming for recovery,” her doctor says, and Clarke’s head is spinning with all of this information.

“Once you leave here, there are going to be a few limitations. No heavy lifting, no driving for at least two weeks,” yeah, like she ever wants to get behind the wheel again, “no intercourse for at least three weeks, and you will probably be able to return to work in about a month.” Clarke nods, but she fidgets uncomfortably at the mention of sex. The only person she wants to have sex with is two feet from her, and she feels incredibly awkward. If anyone else senses it, they don’t say anything.

“We’re going to be taking you for a round of testing in a couple hours, and hopefully after that we can move you to a regular room. We’ll let you talk and figure everything out, and we’ll be back in a little bit. It’s good to see you awake, Clarke.”

Clarke nods numbly, and chews at her lip. She feels terrible. Everything kinda still hurts and even though it hurts, she feels numb. This is a lot of information for a very short amount of time, and her head hurts. It’s also the concussion, but information hurts worse.

When Dr. Michaels leaves, Abby pulls Bellamy to the side and Clarke watches for a moment before turning to Raven and Octavia. “Hey,” Octavia says, squeezing Clarke’s hand. “It’s good to see your face again.”

“Even if my face is covered in bruises?” She can feel them. She hasn’t looked in a mirror, and she doesn’t think she wants to. But she can tell that they’re there. Her entire body feels swollen, as if

“It’s not terrible,” Octavia says gently. “It’s only a couple on your cheek and jaw. You’re gonna have a cool scar,” she suggests, and Clarke manages a laugh.

“I don’t think scars are cool,” Clarke says, and Raven makes a face.

“Hey, I have a cool one on my knee. We can match,” she gives Clarke a grin before squeezing her shoulders. “It’s good to see you smiling, Clarke.” The blonde nods and leans into their tight hugs. “I think he’s happy to see it, too,” Raven adds, and Clarke glances at Bellamy, who’s still speaking to Abby.

“He’s kinda been a mess,” Octavia says quietly, and Clarke frowns. “He’s also your new husband.”

Clarke’s brows raise and she tries to conceal the blush on her cheeks, but her two friends smile a bit. “What?”

“The doctors assumed, and he just went with it. He told us not tell you, but…” Raven grins, and Clarke burrows into her bed, trying to avoid the thoughts of Bellamy as her _husband_. They aren’t even dating for Christ’s sake, but she certainly wouldn’t be opposed to Bellamy being her husband. Fuck.

Speaking of Bellamy, he and Abby finish their quiet chat, and she hurries out of the room, probably to boss someone around. Clarke can’t resist. “You’re my husband now?”

He flashes a look towards Raven and Octavia, only for them to smile innocently at him. She could swear that the tops of his cheeks flush a bit, but he manages an easy smile. “I had to,” he tells her, “they wouldn’t let me stay.”

Her brows furrow, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, I did,” he says simply, and she shifts in her bed. “It was too quiet at home. I didn’t want to be there, and I didn’t want you to be alone here.” God, she loves him so much. He’s so selfless and so caring, and she is so in love with him for those reasons and so many more. Bellamy clears his throat. “Jasper and Monty are on the way. I’m gonna go down and grab them.” Clarke nods, and before she can say anything else, he kisses the top of her head. Then he's gone, and Clarke’s heart is pounding again.

Her cheeks burn and Octavia and Raven grin goofily at her. “It’s a matter of days,” Raven says, collapsing backwards onto the couch. “I swear to god if this doesn’t happen in a few days I’m going to rip my hair out and it’s going to be your fault.”

Clarke wrinkles her nose and crosses her arms slowly across her chest. Fuck, that splint is gonna get annoying. “Nothing is going to happen.”

Octavia makes a face. “I’m not even gonna tell you how wrong you are,” she grumbles, “you two are just impossible.”

Her friends make appearances throughout the rest of the day and evening. Her favorite was Murphy, who immediately shouted, “she lives!” and it earned him a trip _out_ of the ICU for being too loud. Harper, Emori, Octavia, and Raven spend much of their evening plastered to Clarke’s side, and she doesn’t mind. It’s good to see her friends.

Jasper cries, and Monty doesn’t stop smiling, and Jackson looks the most relieved out of all of them. Apparently, he saw her when she was brought in, and it wasn’t good. Miller just looks grateful that she’s smiling. “Missed your face, Clarke,” he says, giving her a quick hug.

“Missed yours,” she counters, and Miller gives her a fond smile.

Eventually she gets overwhelmed, and Raven kicks them all out. “You good?”

Clarke nods gratefully. “It was just a lot. I know they’ll be back tomorrow, but…” Raven raises a brow. “I know I just spent two days sleeping, but I wanna go to sleep.”

“You were more unconscious than asleep,” Raven agrees, helping Clarke get settled into the uncomfortable bed. “Oh,” she says, reaching down into a bag by the couch. She extracts the blanket from her couch at home and puts it down on her bed. “Bellamy brought it. Clarke, he—” Raven pauses. “It was really scary for him. For all of us, but especially him.”

There’s a lump in Clarke’s throat as she nods. Raven tucks the blanket around Clarke. “I’m sure he’ll be here tonight. He’s probably never going to let you out of his sight again. Neither am I, so we can tag team it,” Clarke manages a strangled laugh, and Raven squeezes her hand. “I’m just really glad you’re awake.”

Clarke doesn’t know what her friends experienced while she was unconscious, but god, she is so happy she’s awake.

* * *

 

It’s four days post-operation, and Clarke is starting to go a little stir crazy. She hates her hospital room. She hates having to lay in bed most of the time. She hates not being able to walk around without someone having to accompany her. She hates this. She wants to feel better.

They finally put a cast on her arm, and it hurts like a bitch, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of her abdomen. They literally had to sew her intestines back together, and so that entire area constantly feels like it’s being tugged and dragged on by her stitches. She’s never had a major surgery until this week, and god, it is miserable.

She also hasn’t washed her hair since before the accident, and she feels disgusting. Clarke literally can’t wash her hair. It’s already difficult doing things with one hand, and since she’s not allowed to get her cast wet yet, washing her hair is out of the equation. When she showers they have to plastic wrap her stomach so her stitches don’t get wet. She just wants to feel clean again.

Despite the constant flow of people coming in and out of her room, she’s lonely. Clarke wants to go home and feel normal again. She misses being able to see her friends outside of a hospital. She misses the goddamn sun. She misses her apartment, the familiarity of it with Bellamy.

Bellamy has been beyond helpful in the last few days. Sometimes it feels like he’s smothering her, but she knows he’s only doing it because he’s worried about her. He spends more time in the hospital than he probably should, but he’s on Thanksgiving break and there’s no way in hell she’s gonna ask him to leave.

He’s made it easy, despite his mothering. Bellamy’s been an incredibly calming presence to her this week, especially when her condition or her mother start to irritate her. He’ll just sit down next to her and talk about anything but her surgery. It gets her mind off of it. It helps that he’s good to look at, too.

Currently, she’s bitching about her cast. It’s itchy, and she wants it off. “If you didn’t think about it, you wouldn’t itch.”

Clarke scoffs and rolls onto her right side to face him. “Like you’ve ever had a cast the size of China on your arm.”

Bellamy turns and looks at it, before cocking his head. “I think it’s more the size of Mongolia, but—” she tosses a pillow in his direction, but it misses and he smirks. “You get it off the day before Christmas. That’s like, four weeks, Clarke. You can do this.”

Clarke groans. “Four weeks is so long.”

“It’ll be here before you know it,” Bellamy says gently, helping her tuck the pillow back under her head. “I’m gonna head out. Jasper and Monty needed some help at their apartment, and I said I’d go.”

“Probably good for you to get out of here. You’re probably going as stir crazy as me,” Clarke grumbles, and Bellamy frowns.

“We’ll find a way to sneak you outside tomorrow,” he finally says, and she manages a smile. “Raven will distract, I’ll get you outside.”

She shifts to adjust herself in the bed and squeezes his hand. “You’re the best, Bell.”

He pauses for a moment, like he wants to say something, but then stops. Bellamy shakes his head quickly and presses his lips to the crown of her head. “I’ll come back tomorrow, yeah? Harper should be by soon.”

Clarke nods, and swallows her disappointment. She’s been so sure that something was going to happen this week, and nothing has. There have been times when he looks like he wants to say something, and she’s definitely wanted to say something, but she hasn’t. Clarke is scared, and she’s scared of the reaction. She knows what she wants, and it’s Bellamy. But she just doesn’t know how to get him. 

* * *

 

It’s the night before Thanksgiving when she finally cracks again. Bellamy knows that she’s been having a difficult day, especially when it comes to her progress. She was frustrated yesterday about everything, and it’s finally hit a point of cracking and giving up.

She’s facing away from him when her voice cuts through the quiet. “Bellamy?”

“Hm?” He looks up from his laptop and turns towards her. “Clarke?”

She pauses again. “Can—” her body shudders, and then he realizes that she’s crying. “Can you hold me?”

Clarke’s voice is so quiet, and so small, and there’s absolutely no way he can say no to that. Not that he would anyway, but certainly not now. Bellamy freezes, and she sniffles again. “I—yeah. Yeah, I can.” He quickly sets his laptop on the table and moves closer to Clarke’s bed. She’s curled into herself on the bed, and he’s never been more grateful for the fact that there’s no tubes connecting her to monitors anymore. Because now he can fully get his arms around her, he can comfort her the way he knows she needs.

Bellamy carefully climbs onto the small hospital bed and gathers her into his arms. She sniffs again, and he curls closer, tucking his knees behind her knee caps. Clarke blindly reaches out for his hand with hers, and he holds onto it tightly. He hopes he isn’t hurting her, because the last thing he wants is to cause her more pain.

But she only scoots closer, and he feels fucking horrible. Because she’s probably in terrible pain all the time, and he can’t do anything about it. This is also not the time for him to be thinking about her in ways that are more than innocent.

“I wanna go home, Bellamy,” she whispers, and his heart breaks a little more. “I wanna—I want to go home.” The words jog his thoughts back to the situation at hand, and it doesn’t take him long to remember why he’s holding her.

“I know,” he murmurs back, holding her tighter. “Just a few more days and you can go home.”

Clarke sniffles again and Bellamy lets out a breath. “I wish this didn’t happen.”

“You and me both,” Bellamy tells her, propping himself up on his free arm so he can look down at her. “You can go home on Friday though. I know it seems like so far away, but Clarke, you’re so close to being at home again.”

“Do you think I’ll feel better?” She asks miserably and Bellamy frowns. She won’t turn to look at him, but Bellamy watches as she wipes at her face. God, he hates seeing her cry.

“I hope so,” he finally says, and she makes the face she gets when she’s trying not to cry harder. “Clarke, it’s okay to cry.”

And then the floodgates open, and it’s like there’s no stopping it. He thinks that she’s kept this bottled up since the day she woke up, so it’s no wonder she’s crying this hard. But it physically hurts him to see her like this, and not for the first time he wishes it was him in the accident. Because she’d be safe and healthy and not still in the hospital.

Clarke rolls so she’s facing him and then presses her face into his chest, and all he can do is hold her. He doesn’t know how long she cries, but he knows that it hurts her more than anything.

By the time Octavia comes around, Clarke has cried herself to sleep. He just wants her out of here. He wants her to feel better.

* * *

 

On Thanksgiving, Clarke’s expecting a quiet day and her book to keep her company. Thanksgiving is their favorite holiday and she knows that they’re all spending it together. It should make her feel lonely, but it doesn’t. She’s been recovering in a hospital for a week, they deserve a little break from being. Raven said that she felt terrible about not having Clarke there, especially considering Clarke missed it last year, but Clarke has done nothing but reassure her that it’s okay.

She’s dozing when Bellamy comes parading in around noon, and she’s a little more than confused. “Hey,” she mumbles, still groggy. “What’re you doing here?”

“Spending Thanksgiving with you?”

Clarke rubs at her eyes to wake herself up and very slowly manages to sit up in her bed. Her body still hurts, despite it being a week post-op. She suspects that she’ll hurt this bad for at least another week, but they’ve got her on heavy pain medication and antibiotics. “Bellamy, you know I can barely eat anything. I’m still on the soft diet—”

“And I’m still going to spend Thanksgiving with you, you can stop being stubborn about it,” Bellamy teases, raising a brow at her. Clarke blushes a bit and settles back down into her bed. She pulls her blanket tightly around her. Having a few things from home has helped her during her stay, but Clarke wishes that she was home. She’s tired of waking up in the hospital, and she’s tired of not being allowed to do her normal, everyday activities.

“What are you even going to eat?” Clarke asks, trying to get comfortable. “Because I can guarantee that you don’t want the soup that they’re going to give me, that stuff is nasty—”

Bellamy holds up a bag that she thinks is a turkey sandwich. “I stopped at O and Raven’s before. They eventually gave me some turkey.” Clarke makes a face. “What is that look for?”

“I just,” she says, and then she frowns, “are you sure you don’t want to go with them?”

Bellamy gives her an expression that she can’t place before sitting down firmly at the small table in her room. “Clarke, if I did not want to be here, I wouldn’t be.” And that ends the conversation.

Sure enough, the nurse brings her some soup and surprisingly, a little turkey. The nurse helps her get set up at the table, despite Clarke’s insistence that she can do it on her own. Bellamy gives her a grin, and Clarke ducks her head and looks at her soup.

She’s a little embarrassed about last night. He’s never seen her like that, never seen her cry so hard that she falls asleep. Clarke knows that he probably doesn’t mind, but it just makes her feel so small. But he hasn’t brought it up, and it doesn’t look like he’s going to. She just needed to cry, and she needed Bellamy to be there.

Lunch is quiet, and they find something to watch on television. The Thanksgiving Day parade already passed, and Clarke wasn’t interested in watching the dog show, so they find reruns of all of the Thanksgiving episodes of _Friends_. There isn’t much to talk about, so they spend their time laughing at the stupid things Joey does, or how Monica freaks out _every_ Thanksgiving.

After lunch, Clarke facetimes Raven, and their friends are glad to see them. Jasper holds onto the phone for a solid two minutes. “Clarke, Clarke Griffin, I miss you so much.”

Clarke smiles a bit and leans back into her bed, and Bellamy grins from the foot of it. “Jasper, Jasper Jordan, I miss you so much.”

“I can’t wait till they let you out of jail, we are gonna watch so much shitty TV with Monty,” Jasper says, and oh god, who let him near the tequila.

“I can’t wait for it either, Jasper,” Clarke replies, and Jasper’s blurry face gives her a bright smile.

“Good. Cause I found this new _really_ shitty one, and I know you’re gonna love it,” Jasper says, and Clarke grins a little more.

Raven’s phone is passed around through most of their friends before finally getting back to Raven. “Everyone misses you. Both of you. You’re not allowed to miss Thanksgiving next year.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Clarke promises, and the two bid their goodbyes for the day. Raven’s coming tomorrow to help Clarke get out of the hospital, so it’s not like it’s going to be long before she sees her again.

Bellamy smiles fondly at her from the foot of the bed, and gestures for her to join him. “C’mere,” he says, and Clarke slowly crawls to the end of the bed towards him. He wraps one arm tightly around her and Clarke leans into his embrace. “Sorry that you’re in the hospital on Thanksgiving.”

She shrugs a bit, one of her hands pressing on her abdomen where her bandage is. “At least it’s not Christmas. That would _really_ suck.”

Bellamy laughs a bit and nods, resting his cheek on her head. “That would really suck. We’d be spending Christmas in the hospital.” Clarke feels warm when he says we. He’d spend Christmas in the hospital with her. If she wasn’t already in love with him, she’d be spiraling.

Clarke looks up at the time that he looks down, and for a moment, everything is frozen. Her eyes drop to his lips, and his drop to hers. Her heart pounds out of her chest and his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and fuck, she’s never wanted anything more than to kiss him.

Bellamy starts to lean in, and one of his hands curls at her waist gently. Clarke’s eyes start to close and finally—

He stops.

He’s still right there, she can sense it, but he’s not moving. They’re still so incredibly close, but nothing’s happening, and she wants the ground to swallow her up. Clarke opens her mouth to say something, but he beats her to it. “Not—not _here_. Not in the hospital.” His voice is hoarse and gruff and strained, and she doesn’t _understand_. “Clarke, I—”

There’s a knock on the door frame, and everything is ruined. Time starts again, and terrifying disappointment fills her. Bellamy nearly jumps off of the bed and Clarke’s face is burning with embarrassment as her mother and Marcus walk into the room. Fuck, they were so close. Clarke doesn’t give a shit if they kiss in the hospital. She just wants to fucking kiss him. She wants to know why there’s this magnetic pull between them, what she’s been missing all of these months.

Clarke forces a smile and her mother is oblivious to the tension in the room. “Hi Clarke, Bellamy,” she says, tipping her head in his direction, and Bellamy nods mutely. Marcus seems to sense that they’ve just walked into something that they shouldn’t have and tries to distract Abby, but the damage has been done.

Bellamy has pulled back, and Clarke is more confused than ever.

Because she’s certain that he wanted to kiss her. He almost did it, too. And then he just stopped. He said not here, as if he’s thought about this before. She’s one hundred percent thought about it, and she doesn’t care if it happens here. She just—she wants him. In every way, shape, or form. Did he change his mind? Does he not want to kiss her?

“Mom,” Clarke manages to say, even though her voice sounds so far away, even to her ears. “What… what are you doing here?”

Abby shrugs and gives her daughter a smile. “Oh, we just figured that we’d stop by and say hello. We didn’t know Bellamy was here though, so—”

“Don’t worry,” Bellamy says hastily, and Clarke’s stomach drops. “I’m—I’m gonna head out anyways. I have some stuff to get done before school starts up again on Monday.”

“Oh, are you sure? We have plenty of—”

Bellamy gives Abby an easy smile, but glances at Clarke uneasily. “I appreciate the offer, but I really need to get some work done. Clarke, I’ll—” She can see him swallow, and she has to look away. “I’ll talk to you tonight about tomorrow.”

And then he’s gone, and everything feels shattered. He’s left her with more confusion than she’s ever felt.

* * *

 

“Home sweet home,” Bellamy says, pushing open the door so Clarke can walk through. He watches her enter the apartment and immediately feels a little more at ease. She’s home, finally.

She huffs as he closes the door, brushing the snow off of the both of them. The weathermen were right, this is the coldest winter they’ve ever had, and it’s only the end of November. No telling how the rest of this is going to go. “Hasn’t changed at all.”

“What, did you think I was gonna trash he place?” Clarke makes a face and pads over to the couch, and his eyes follow her.

“I’m not going to break, Bellamy.”

“I know,” he says quietly, “I just want to make sure. We don’t need to be going back to the hospital right after we left the hospital.” Bellamy gives her a tired smile and she gives him a timid one before tugging a blanket around herself. Bellamy watches her for a moment before turning his back to light the fire.

It gives him a minute to sort out all of his feelings without her looking at him. For one, he’s elated that she’s home. He didn’t enjoy it when he was the only one here, because Clarke makes it homier to him. On the other hand, he feels so fucking awkward about what happened yesterday.

He almost kissed her. Almost, being the key word. Bellamy was so close to giving in and just doing it, but he didn’t. Because his first kiss with Clarke was not going to be in the hospital when she feels absolutely shitty about herself and her situation. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t _make_ himself do it. That’s not what he wants for them, even if it was _clear_ that she didn’t care.

It’s silly, but he loves her _so_ _much_ , and he just wants a good start for them. He doesn’t want that start to be in a hospital. Bellamy supposes that now that they’re home he could do it at any time, but she’s drawn back into her shell so badly he doesn’t know if she’ll let him.

It’s a difficult situation now, and Bellamy hates it, but he made his choice. Next time he has a chance to kiss Clarke, there’s going to be nothing stopping him.

They fall back into their usual routine over the next few days. Or, as usual as it can get with Clarke still kind of out of commission and only eating soft foods. Luckily she has another post-op appointment on Wednesday, and then they’ll tell her if she can eat solid food again. He knows that she’s getting frustrated about it.

Bellamy gets home from school on Monday to find Octavia and Raven in his kitchen, with Clarke’s head under their kitchen sink. “They make this look so much easier in movies,” he hears Raven say, and then Clarke laughs. His heart warms a bit. He steps out so they can see them and Raven grins at him. “Hey, Bellamy.”

Clarke almost whacks her head on the faucet, and Octavia scolds her teasingly. “What’s going on?” He asks, even though he knows exactly what’s going on.

“Clarke was having trouble washing her hair and her head looks like a greased pig so we thought that—”

“Hey! Your head would look like a greased pig too if you haven’t washed your hair properly in a few days,” Clarke counters, and Raven smirks at her. She dumps a cup of water over Clarke’s head and Bellamy hears her grumbling about it. “Hey, Tavia, I need a towel.”

Octavia nods and hops off of the counter. “Bellamy and I can get one.”

Oh, god.

As soon as they’re in his bathroom to get a spare towel, she whacks the side of his head lightly. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“What the hell are _you_ thinking?” Bellamy grumbles, digging in the closet.

“You know exactly what the hell I’m thinking,” Octavia seethes, crossing her arms over her chest. “You can’t just go around _almost_ kissing Clarke.”

So that’s what this is about.

“O—”

“Do you have _any_ idea what that’s done to her head?” He shuts his mouth and lets his sister continue. “Now she thinks that you don’t want it. That it was a mistake!”

Bellamy runs a hand through his hair and groans. This has spiraled out of control. “I do want it! I just didn’t want it to be at the hospital!”

Octavia gives him a look and Bellamy clenches a jaw. He finally finds a towel and stands so he’s at his sister’s height. “She thinks that you don’t want her, Bellamy. I don’t know what you said after but—”

“Octavia, you _know_ how I feel—”

“I do know, and that’s the problem. _Clarke_ doesn’t know. She’s pulling back because she’s scared that you don’t want her. And I know that that’s not true, but you need to somehow translate that to her. She’s already feeling shitty about herself because of the accident, and now she feels even worse.”

Guilt settles in his stomach, and it’s hard for him to swallow. “I didn’t mean to make her feel that way.”

“I know,” Octavia says gently. “It just came across that way to her. Clarke had been in the hospital for a week, and you had spent most of your time there. It made her start thinking, and for the first time she thought that you maybe felt the same way. And I know you do, and I know how she feels about you, but it was poor decision.”

Bellamy grips the towel tighter. “Trust me, I know why you wouldn’t want it to happen in the hospital. Do you ever think it would’ve made her feel better?” He wants to melt with embarrassment. “But I think it was lost in communication, and now it has to be fixed.”

“I’m gonna fix it,” he says, just as Raven yells that they’re slow as fuck.

And he’s going to fix it. He’s gonna work at it until he knows that she knows that he wants her more than anything in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bellamy's pretty good at fixing things
> 
> As usual, kudos and comments are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clxrkeblxke!


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! so this is BY FAR the longest chapter i've written for this story, so i really hope that y'all enjoy it. i worked super hard on it, and a lot of this has been written since day 1 so finally getting it out there feels incredible. some of this feels a little rushed but i promise there is a very good reason for that.
> 
> also, i highly recommend listening to the song "made for you" by alexander cardinale as you read this. there is a specific part somewhere in this chapter where it's referenced, and i really think it would clear a lot of things up :-) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OrqOS00a9_0

It’s Clarke’s second week with a cast, and she’s about ready to rip it off. It drives her insane. She can hardly do anything because she broke both of the bones in her forearm. It doesn’t hurt that bad, but it’s literally impossible to do anything that she normally does. She can’t even paint or draw because she’s left handed. She can grip the pencil or brush, but there’s no guarantee that it’s going to look good.

On top of that, her intestines are reacting poorly to solid food again. It’s not doing anything terrible, it’s just giving her miserable stomach aches and pains after she eats something that’s still a little questionable. Her doctor said that that was normal, but god, she just wants to eat some pasta without her body revolting. She’s spent several nights after dinner curled into a ball on the couch unable to move. Bellamy doesn’t know how to help, and that makes it worse.

And don’t even get her started on Bellamy. He’s smothering her. She knows that it’s only coming from the goodness of his heart, but it’s driving her crazy. It’s a welcome break when he goes to school. It also doesn’t help that things have been weird between them since Thanksgiving. She’s trying to distance because he didn’t kiss her and it’s like he’s only trying to get closer, and Clarke doesn’t know how to handle it.

Frankly, it really sucked being so close to him, but then nothing happening. Her time in the hospital made her think that maybe he felt the same way. It was almost confirmed until he pulled back. All he said was _not here_ , and it made her confused, and she still is confused.

She doesn’t remember much about her accident, but she knows for certain that if she had made it home she would’ve told him everything. That was her plan. She was going to get home, and immediately tell him how she felt. That plan, obviously, was derailed, and now she doesn’t know if she’s going to.

Now, Clarke just feels so awkward. It’s clear that there’s something hanging between them, a ball ready to drop, but it won’t. She knows that they’re going to have to talk about it eventually. You don’t just nearly kiss your best friend and roommate and not talk about it. Clarke just has a feeling in her gut that it’s going to be a mess, and that’s the last thing she wants.

What she wants is to know what he wants. She also wants him, but that’s kind of a touchy subject right now. Clarke has caught herself thinking about him in multiple ways and has tried to stop herself, because he’s acting weird and he didn’t kiss her.

She feels ashamed for feeling like this. She’s upset because the man she’s in love with didn’t kiss her. She should be happy that she’s alive, she nearly died two weeks ago! But everything is so discombobulated, and it’s driving her insane.

Clarke just wishes that it was easier.

He’s definitely feeling some sort of strain on their relationship, because whenever he goes to touch her, Clarke pulls back. She thinks that it’s frustrating him, and she finds is annoyingly satisfying. Because it frustrated her when he pulled back before fucking kissing her, so she’s going to do the same thing. It’s childish, but she doesn’t care.

It's like it’s a game between them now. Clarke sees how far she can pull back, and he sees how close he can get before she does. It’s kinda funny, but it also hurts.

They’ve been orbiting around each other for what feels like weeks. There’s no end in sight and Clarke wants to beat herself on the head for feeling so stupid. Because she’s still so in love with him, but _nothing is happening._

More than anything, she’s bored.

It’s boring without Bellamy because he’s at school and she’s stuck at home. She’s not allowed to work again until right after Christmas, and so she’s just been suffering at home. Clarke has done _a lot_ of puzzles in the last couple of weeks. Bellamy helps sometimes when he gets home, but he’s stressed about finals and grading them all in time that more often than not he sits at the edge of the table reading through essays.

It’s nice just to sit with him, even if things are odd. He still tries to touch her pretty regularly, even if it’s just a hand on a shoulder, or a tight hug, but it’s different. She can’t place why it’s different, but it is. And he’s flirting with her. Or, his version of flirting. He’s actually miserable at flirting, but she thinks that he’s trying his best. She can’t deny that she thinks it’s cute. It’s still a confusing situation.

One Monday morning Clarke finds him sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee, and she’s confused. “What are you doing? Don’t you have work?”

Bellamy shakes his head and looks up at her, a smile forming on his face. “Nope. It’s officially Christmas holidays. I’m off for two weeks.” Two weeks of him at home? There’s no way she can just avoid the situation anymore because now he’s here full time.

“Oh. I forgot,” Clarke mumbles before crossing swiftly to the table. She sinks into the chair next to him and scratches at her cast. Two days till it comes off, and she’s losing her mind. She’s healed correctly everywhere else, and she’s finally starting to feel like herself again. She can eat solid food without problems, now.

The only issue is that she still refuses to drive. Clarke will not under any circumstance get behind the wheel yet. Even sitting in a passenger seat is enough to freak her out. She refuses to take the road that she got into an accident on. Bellamy’s been helpful and understanding, and it warms her heart despite the weirdness.

“Two days,” he tells her, without looking up from his coffee.

“Thank god,” she grumbles, still scratching at it.

It’s quiet between the pair for a moment, before Bellamy speaks up. “We’re doing Christmas Eve at Octavia and Raven’s,” he says, and Clarke nods. “And then Lincoln invited me to his family’s Christmas.”

Clarke can’t help but lift her brows. “Oh?”

Bellamy nods. “I think he’s going to ask for my blessing.”

Clarke’s eyes widen. “You think so?”

He nods again, but he still won’t look at her. “Yeah. I think he meant to weeks ago and then obviously it didn’t happen…” Bellamy trails, and she knows it was because of her accident.

“Are you okay with it?”

Bellamy’s quiet for a couple minutes, and Clarke waits patiently. “I—” He pauses, and glances at her. “I think so. It’s weird. She’s my baby sister, and she’s going to get married. She’s not gonna be my responsibility anymore. She hasn’t been for a while, but now it’s gonna be real. But I’m,” he takes a breath, and his hand reaches out for hers. She takes it slowly and lets him find his words. “I’m good. I’m happy for her. I know he’s a good guy, it’s just—it’s a little weird. She’s gonna make her own life, now.”

Clarke nods thoughtfully and squeezes his hand. “She’s been doing that for a while, Bellamy. Even when we were in college.” Her eyes focus on the contrast of their hands, the size and the color. They’re an odd pair. She wishes they actually were a pair. “Y’know, she hid Lincoln from you for a pretty long time.”

“She did a terrible job of it,” Bellamy grunts, and Clarke laughs a bit. “What, do you think I didn’t know where she was going to study? I’m not an idiot, Clarke. I mean, I’m in idiot, but not that big of an idiot.”

* * *

 

On the 23rd of December, Clarke waits in the waiting room of the hospital with Bellamy. She’s ready to get this cast off, and she’s ready to be cleared. Her leg bounces up and down anxiously, and Bellamy rests a hand on her knee. His touch startles her, even through her jeans. “Hey,” he murmurs, “you good?”

Clarke nods a bit, but her leg still jiggles. Now, his hand takes hers and his fingers twine with hers gently. “I’m fine, I promise,” she mutters, and he raises a brow. Then, she sighs. “I think I’m just ready for it to be off. I wanna be done. I want to leave the accident behind and I can’t forget it if I still have a cast on.”

Bellamy nods in understanding. “Well, today’s your lucky day. It’s coming off.”

“Thank god,” she says, settling into her seat some more. He surprises her again and leans over and presses a kiss to her temple.

“I’m really proud of you,” he murmurs against her skin, and she wants to melt. “I’m serious. This situation has sucked ass on so many levels, and you’ve handled it so well. You’re incredible.”

“You helped a lot, too,” she replies, trying to conceal the flush of her cheeks. “I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through this without you.”

Bellamy kisses her temple again, and for a moment, she lets herself believe that it’s real. He pulls back, and then squeezes her hand. “Clarke, I gotta tell you something.”

She’s about to reply, but then a familiar voice calls her name. “Clarke!” She lets out a breath and turns to find her mother waiting. Clarke pauses for a moment, and could swear that frustration runs across Bellamy’s face, but he masks it quickly.

“Go on,” he says with a hint of a smile. “Go get your cast off.”

“Bellamy—”

“Go,” he urges, and she hesitantly goes to her mother. Abby’s brows are raised, but she doesn’t say anything.

An hour later, her cast is off and she feels better than she has in weeks.

They celebrate with Chinese food, and Bellamy doesn’t bring up what he had to tell her. So she doesn’t either.

* * *

 

It’s quiet in the car on the way to Octavia and Raven’s the next day. It’s Christmas Eve and there are only a few cars on the road, and those that are on the road are headed to church, of Christmas parties. Clarke has refused to drive since her accident, and Bellamy doesn’t blame her. He doesn’t mind driving for the time being. Eventually he’ll get her behind the wheel again, but for now he’s happy to drive.

Clarke turns on the Christmas station and Bellamy rolls his eyes, but lets her. They’ve been listening to Christmas music nonstop since Christmas break started. And he wants to say that he’s getting tired of it, but he can’t because Clarke loves it so much.

She hums along, and it makes him smile, eventually.

Clarke reaches to the center console to turn the heat up and he catches her hand as she draws it back. She doesn’t say anything about it, but lets him wrap their fingers together. He has to bite back his smile. They stay like that for the rest of the ride of Octavia and Raven’s, and even when they have to get out of the car, his hand finds hers again. He could hold her hand forever. They only get go when they reach the door, and even then he’s reluctant to let go.

Their friend’s laughter greets them as soon as the door opens. Octavia and Raven have the whole place decorated and filled with Christmas cheer and Bellamy sees Clarke’s eyes light up. Raven immediately pulls Clarke away from the entry way, and the blonde shoots an apologetic glance at Bellamy, but he only grins.

Bellamy takes off his coat and shakes the snow out of it before finding Murphy and Monty in the kitchen. The latter of the two has a Santa hat on and Murphy looks disgruntled as he drinks his eggnog. “I will not wear the reindeer hat, Monty, I refuse—oh! Make Bellamy do it!”

He scowls and gets a cup for himself. “I am not wearing the reindeer hat, absolutely not.” Monty crosses his arms but grins at Bellamy. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he says back, sipping at his drink. Monty goes to berate Jasper into wearing the reindeer hat, and Murphy raises a brow. “What is that look for?”

“I’m just curious,” he starts, looking out over the bar to the living room. He catches sight of Clarke and Emori laughing about something, and the blonde finds his gaze with a grin. “I swear to god if you tell me that you two haven’t banged yet I’m going to ruin Christmas.”

Bellamy snorts and turns back to Murphy. “You ruin Christmas and Octavia will kill you.”

Murphy scowls and puts his mug down. “So you haven’t banged yet is what I’m hearing.”

“Fuck off,” Bellamy grumbles, “I’m working on it.”

His friend rolls his eyes. “Uh-huh. And how’s that going for you?” Bellamy’s silence is his answer. “That’s what I thought. You’d think that after a life-threatening situation you’d be able to—Clarke! Here’s some eggnog!” Murphy says abruptly, and Bellamy lets out a breath. Clarke raises a brow at his insistence to give her a drink.

“Thanks?” Murphy grins a bit as Clarke goes back into the living room. Fuck, she looks _good_. Clarke always looks good, but she looks better than usual tonight.

“You are so gone,” Murphy grumbles, clapping him on the back. “Godspeed.”

Bellamy scowls again and shoves him lightly as they walk into the living room. “You’re a terrible friend.”

Murphy puts a hand on his chest and feigns hurt. “And here I thought we were gonna be besties until the day we died.”

Bellamy tries to frown, but a smile fights its way onto his face.

The excitement and happiness in the apartment make it obvious that everyone is incredibly happy to be here. Not that they haven’t been happy on Christmas before, but there’s a much more positive attitude this year. There are also a couple new editions, Shaw and Lincoln. It hits Bellamy that Christmas could have been very different this year. If Clarke had died in that accident… Christmas would’ve been a wreck.

They all decided no presents this year, and Raven joked that Clarke was their present. Bellamy watches as Raven puts a bow on Clarke’s head, and he grins fondly. Murphy catches him and waggles his brows. Bellamy kicks him.

He watches as everyone talks and laughs and teases. He catches Raven and Shaw sneaking a kiss, and he pretends that he doesn’t see. Octavia and Lincoln are in the kitchen together, and he pretends that he doesn’t know that either. Clarke, Harper, and Emori are laughing at themselves in the corner, and he finds himself feeling very warm at the sound of their laughter.

* * *

 

Drunk Clarke is one of Bellamy’s favorite versions of Clarke. She laughs a lot and smiles more than she usually does, and it just makes him happy. Combine that with her taking medicine and less alcohol getting her drunk, she’s a riot. Now, however, when he’s trying to get her inside and she won’t move because she’s laughing too hard, he’s not loving Drunk Clarke.

Finally, he manages to get her inside and locks the door before turning back to her. She has the brightest smile on her face and he feels one fall onto his.

“Goodnight, Clarke.” Bellamy says with a grin, and she frowns. “I will see you in the morning.”

She grumbles when he starts to walk away, and then she tugs on his shirt. “I don’t want to see you in the morning,” she mumbles, and he raises a brow. “We shouldn’t wake up alone on Christmas!”

His thoughts stray to dangerous territory and he shakes his head quickly. “Clarke, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Bellamy manages in a strangled voice, but she doesn’t notice.

“Oh, c’mon, Bell! It’ll be like a sleepover.” Yeah, a sleepover where he tries to keep his hands to himself without her knowing. But the urge to hold her finally wins over all other rational though, so he nods. She cheers a little, stumbling into the wall.

Bellamy scrubs at his face to hide his smile. “Go get cleaned up first. Take a shower and brush your teeth.” Clarke nods rapidly and walks to her room, dragging her hand along the wall as she goes. He tries not to let his eyes get hypnotized by the swing of her hips, but fuck, it’s hard.

He quickly cleans up in the kitchen and living room, listening for Clarke’s shower to go on. He knows that she hates going to sleep without a shower, and if she does that tonight, she’ll be annoyed at herself tomorrow morning. Bellamy grabs some water and brings it back to his room before going into the bathroom to get ready for bed himself.

He’s brushing his teeth when he hears movement from his room, and he pokes his head out to find Clarke crawling into his bed.

It makes his knees go weak.

He struggles to keep his body upright as she turns to face him, a bright smile on her face. He dimly thinks that the flannel she’s wearing is one of his really old ones that he could’ve sworn he lost in the wash, and _holy fuck_ how is he going to make it through the night.

Bellamy clears his throat and finishes getting ready for bed before entering his room again. This time, Clarke’s wearing his glasses, and squinting at him. “The hell are you doing?”

“You are _blind_ , Bellamy.”

He snorts and reaches for them before pulling them from her face gently. “Yeah, and I need them.”

Clarke wrinkles her nose and he smiles easily at her. “You should wear your glasses more.”

Bellamy raises a brow. “Yeah?”

The blonde nods quickly, looking at him as he puts his glasses on. It looks like she’s lost for a moment, before she nods again with a grin. “Yeah. I like them. They look good.”

Well, if that isn’t enough to convince him to wear his glasses all the time.

Bellamy slides into bed, a fair distance from her just to be safe. He knows that he’ll eventually gravitate towards her in his sleep, but he at least wants to say that he started out not cuddling her. Then, she starts giggling, and he raises a brow.

Clarke rolls onto her side to face him, and her smile is so happy he thinks he’s falling in love with her again. “What’s so funny?”

“I just,” she pauses and runs a hand through her hair, and yeah, that’s definitely one of his old flannels he thought he lost in the wash. _Fuck_. “I just love Christmas time.”

Bellamy smiles and rests up on his elbow to look at her. “I know you do. You’ve been excited since Thanksgiving.”

“And now it’s here, and it’s great,” she laughs, and he nods. She’s the cutest fucking thing he’s ever seen. He’s so in love with her it’s not even funny anymore.

“You ready to go to sleep?” Bellamy finally asks, and she smiles brightly at him. She settles down next to him, her body a few inches from him. Clarke reaches for his hand and plays with his fingers as they get situated in bed.

This whole situation is so domestic he can’t breathe. It would be so easy, so easy to have this every night. To have her this close, to be able to hold her anytime he wanted. His breath hitches as she curls into his side, scooting into his embrace. Well, now he is holding her, and he never wants to let go again. She presses her back into his chest and Bellamy wills himself to breathe because _fuck_ , the most incredible woman in the world is _right here_ in his _bed_.

The pair settle down, and things start to quiet down. It’s still, and safe, and quiet, and Bellamy is so grateful that she’s here.

“Bell?”

Bellamy groans. He was nearly asleep, but now he rubs at his eyes lightly. “Hmph?”

 “Do you think pigeons have feelings?” Bellamy groans again and tightens his grip on her waist gently. “I mean it! Like do they feel things like we do?”

Bellamy finally opens his eyes and finds his vision obscured by a mess of blonde hair. “What the fuck, Clarke.”

She huffs. “I’m serious! When they find a piece of bread on the ground do they get excited?”

“Oh my god,” Bellamy grumbles, resting his head back down on his pillow. “Go to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep without knowing,” she whispers, and Bellamy would laugh at this conversation, but it’s so late, and he’s so tired. But, she quiets down for a few minutes, and Bellamy is almost asleep when her voice breaks through his thoughts again. “When they die do they feel it?”

Bellamy groans and presses his face into the back of her neck. “Go to sleep, Clarke.”

“But—“

“No.”

He thinks that she’s dropped it and is seconds away from sleep when he hears it. “Bell?”

“Ask me again if pigeons have feelings, I fucking dare you.” 

* * *

 

Clarke wakes in the middle of the night with the intense urge to pee. She drank quite a bit and she’s paying for it now. She shifts a bit in her spot, trying to find the strength to get up when the body next to her moves too. Her eyes widen, and for a split second, she’s terrified that she’s slept with Bellamy. Because—no. She _knows_ she would remember sleeping with Bellamy. Clarke can’t help but feel a little disappointed that she _didn’t_ sleep with Bellamy.

So she shifts again because she really does have to pee, but Bellamy’s arm only tightens around her. “No,” he grumbles sleepily. “What’re you doing?” His voice is gruff and full of sleep, and despite the fact that she’s still half asleep herself, she can’t deny that that voice gets her heart going.

“I have to pee,” she mumbles, pressing her face into her pillow. His arm doesn’t move from her, but it loosens a bit.

Clarke swings herself up slowly and Bellamy’s hand slides down to her hip. “Come back to bed, hm?” His eyes are still tightly closed but she nods before stumbling to his bathroom. Come back to bed. Fuck, she really is gone for this guy.

When she emerges again, he’s in the exact spot she left him. He’s not exactly on his side of the bed, more like in the middle. But he was wrapped around her on her side of his bed (god, isn’t that weird?) so it’s not like she’s not gonna complain.

Clarke slides back into bed and he hums contently against her. “Missed you,” Bellamy murmurs, wrapping one of his arms back around her waist. The other slides under her neck and she scoots back into his warm embrace.

They’re both back asleep in seconds.

* * *

 

Bellamy wakes Christmas morning to his phone ringing. He blindly fumbles across his nightstand to his phone and answers it quickly. “Hello?”

“Bellamy? Are you awake?” Octavia’s cheery voice greets him through the phone and he rubs his face with his free hand.

“I am now.”

“So you’re not ready.”

Bellamy sighs as the body in bed shifts, and he freezes for a moment. The night’s events come rushing back and he remembers why Clarke is in his bed. He’s not going to complain as she curls closer to him, burying her face into his chest. “Give me twenty minutes?”

“We can’t be late,” Octavia scolds, and Bellamy rolls his eyes, rubbing his thumb gently on Clarke’s shoulder.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he grumbles, and Octavia hangs up quickly. He turns his head to see Clarke more clearly and presses his lips gently to her head. “Hey,” Bellamy whispers, “time to get up.”

The blonde in his bed groans and rolls away from him to bury her face into a pillow. “No. Your bed is comfy. My head hurts.” Clarke’s voice is muffled and he grins, rubbing between her shoulder blades.

“You had a lot to drink last night, Clarke. You kept asking if I thought pigeons had feelings,” Bellamy snorts, and she flips him off, but there’s no malice in it.

“They do,” she says firmly, peeking her eye out to face him. He gives her a bright smile.

“Merry Christmas, Pigeon Girl,” Bellamy says, and he snickers when she jabs at his chest lightly. “You want coffee?”

Clarke nods slowly, “please.” Bellamy crawls out of bed and she scoots into the warm that he left before pulling the blankets tighter around her. Bellamy has to fight the urge to jump back in bed. He quietly and quickly gets ready for the day, a little grateful that she’s fallen back asleep. He vaguely remembers her waking up in the middle of the night, but he’s not sure if that was a dream or not. Regardless, she still woke up in his bed so he doesn’t really care.

Once in the kitchen, he brews some coffee and gets some Advil because he’s certain that she’ll need it. He’s about to go back and wake her up when he hears a lock clicking, and then Octavia slams through the door screaming about Christmas. “Merry Christmas, Bellamy!”

Bellamy gives his sister a grin as she kisses him on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, O.”

“You ready?”

“Yeah, give me five more minutes,” Bellamy say as Octavia nods before looking around.

Her brows are raised when she asks, “where’s Clarke?”

“Still asleep,” Bellamy says, not really paying attention as he makes their coffee. He figures out his mistake when he realizes that he didn’t clarify _where_ she is asleep. Octavia is already hurrying to the back of the apartment, and Bellamy can only watch as this goes down.

“Clarke! Get up! It’s Christmas! I don’t care if you’re hungover, get up—” her shouting comes to an abrupt halt when she finds that Clarke is not in her room. Bellamy watches as she processes this information before her brows nearly fly off of her face. Octavia shoots him a wicked grin before nearly jumping into Bellamy’s room.

He hears an _oof_ , and then Octavia’s contagious laughter. Bellamy pads back into his room quietly and then his face breaks into a small smile.

Octavia has wrapped herself around Clarke through the blankets, and her grin is so wide he thinks it’s going to split her cheeks. Clarke just looks disgruntled and angry, and Bellamy is so fond of her. “Aw c’mon Clarke! You can’t be angry on Christmas!” Octavia says, her voice hitching in a laugh.

“I can fucking try,” Clarke grumbles back, but it’s clear she’s fighting to keep the amusement off of her face. Octavia pokes her side until she smiles, and Clarke peels with laughter. Her face is bright pink and her smile is wide. Bellamy’s heart warms as he watches the two of them interact. “Is that coffee?” She finally says, glancing at the mugs in his hands.

Bellamy nods and hands it and the Advil to her. She takes the pills quickly and then sips on her coffee quietly as Octavia looks between them curiously. “You ready, O?”

She nods and slides off of Bellamy’s bed, tapping Clarke on the shoulder as she goes. “Don’t fall back asleep, or your mom will kill you.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and follows them into the living room. “She’s gonna find a way to kill me regardless,” Clarke laughs, and Octavia’s eyes go as wide as saucers when she recognizes the flannel. Fuck, _his_ eyes go as wide as saucers when he sees her whole body wearing the flannel. Her _legs_. It’s a goddamn miracle he made it through the night. “Text me when you get there?”

Bellamy manages to tip his head into a nod. “Same to you.”

Once out in Octavia’s car, his sister can barely contain herself, but he shakes his head. “It’s not what you think.”

“It’s not what I think?”

“We just slept.”

Octavia throws her hands up before slamming her head onto the steering wheel. “So, lemme get this straight. You spent a whole night in bed with the woman that you’re hopelessly in love with, and you _still_ didn’t do anything about it?”

“She was drunk, Octavia.”

His sister makes a face, and he knows that she knows he’s right. “I hate when you’re a good guy. Fuck, she would’ve let you!”

“That’s not the point,” Bellamy grumbles, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want her to wake up and feel like I took advantage of her, or she made a mistake!”

Octavia grumbles something under her breath before sighing and putting the car in reverse. “You know damn well that she wouldn’t have thought it was a mistake, but at least I don’t have to worry about you doing something stupid to her.” Bellamy crosses his arms over his chest as she sticks her tongue out at him. He’s in for a _long_ car ride.

* * *

 

Clarke, Raven, and Zeke make it to the Griffin home unscathed, and as usual, late. Abby greets them happily, before ushering them both inside. Marcus gives her a smile and a tight hug. “Good to see you, Clarke,” Marcus grins and then gives Raven a hug as well, as if she’s his own step-daughter.

Her mother and stepfather adore Raven, but like, what’s not to adore? Marcus loved her from the minute Clarke introduced them, and Raven is always more than happy to talk about whatever project she’s working on at the time.

“Mom, Marcus, this is Raven’s… boyfriend Zeke,” Clarke says quickly, waving her hand back at the man who stands behind the two of them. “They work together, and his family lives in Michigan, and the flights were too expensive, so…”

Marcus grins and shakes Zeke’s hand tightly, “no problem at all. You know Clarke and Raven, you know us. Merry Christmas.”

Raven glares at Clarke a bit and Clarke only shrugs, “boyfriend?”

“Isn’t that what he is?” Clarke teases, grinning.

“If that’s the case then Bellamy is _definitely_ your boyfriend, too,” Raven grumbles under her breath as Abby introduces herself to Zeke. Clarke’s cheeks burst pink and she quickly tries to expel the butterflies in her stomach at the word boyfriend. She’s worked up about it and Bellamy isn’t even here. “What? They act the same.”

“Raven,” Clarke groans, “this is not the time to dissect my relationship with Bellamy.”

“At least you know it’s a relationship,” Raven says, and Clarke rolls her eyes. She watches as Raven goes back to Zeke and Marcus before either one of them embarrass her.

Clarke sets down the few gifts that they brought and turns to her mother. Abby offers her a grin. “Good to see you without a cast.”

“I got my cast off two days ago, Mom, you were the one to take it off!” Clarke responds, but lets her mother give her a tight hug.

“You’re not allowed to scare me like that again, Clarke,” Abby says sternly, and Clarke agrees quickly. “You’re not allowed to scare anyone like that again.”

Clarke nods, a little struck by the change in her mother’s tone of voice. But she responds easily anyways, saying, “I’m not planning on it. My friends have made sure of that. I think they’ve made a spreadsheet to make sure I never have to drive again.”

Abby finally cracks a smile and squeezes Clarke’s hands. “Good to know.”

Christmas Day is a fun affair. Admittedly, most of the day is spent teasing Clarke and Raven about various things, but it’s clear that both of them take it in stride. They’re used to it at this point.

It’s after Christmas dinner as Clarke and Abby wash the dishes when her mother finally says something that has clearly been on her mind. “Where is Bellamy today?”

Clarke nearly drops the plate when her mother says his name. She’s been doing a pretty good job of not thinking about him today, but now it’s all out the window. She thinks about last night, the hardness of his body up next to hers, but the extreme gentleness with which he held her. She’s spiraling again. Clarke pulls her mind back and steadies herself, shrugging. “He went with Octavia and Lincoln to Lincoln’s mother’s house.”

“Oh.” Her mother clearly has something else to say, but waits for Clarke to speak up.

“Why do you ask?”

This time Abby shrugs, handing Clarke another dish to dry. “I had just wondered how long the two of you had been together.”

Clarke’s fingers slip on the plate and it slides back into the soapy water as she rapidly shakes her head. “Oh, I—“ the blonde takes a breath, “we’re not together.”

Abby’s eyebrows shoot off of her forehead. “Oh?” Clarke nods and tries to stop the shaking of her hands. “I had just assumed because of what happened at the hospital.”

“What happened at the hospital?” Clarke asks, her curiosity getting the best of her. Her heart pounds as her mother washes another dish.

“He didn’t leave your side. It was clear that he was terrified the whole time. Didn’t go home to sleep, didn’t really eat, didn’t let go of your hand.” Clarke swallows. “And then you woke up and immediately asked for him, and I just assumed—”

“We’re not together,” Clarke forces out, dropping her eyes.

“You want to be,” Abby says, and Clarke worries her lip. Well, she read through that one in seconds. “Why don’t you?”

“He’s my best friend, Mom,” Clarke starts, dropping her voice a bit. This conversation is just for the two of them. Despite what Raven knows, she doesn’t exactly want her best friend’s boyfriend-not-boyfriend and her stepfather to know that she’s hopelessly in love with her roommate. “I don’t want to do something and then ruin it.”

“Honey,” Abby starts, “I doubt you would be ruining it. That boy wants to be with you as much as you want to be with him.”

Clarke snorts a bit as her heart pounds. “Sure.”

“I mean, when I asked him—”

“Mom!” Clarke shouts, absolutely shocked that her mother would do such a thing. “You asked him?” Abby looks like she’s trying not to smile at her daughter’s outburst, but Clarke is not having it. “That—you— _Mom_!”

Her mother just washes her dishes. “I just mentioned to him that I thought you two were good for each other, and he took it in that direction—”

“I cannot believe you would do that. I was unconscious!” Clarke tries to stay angry, but it’s useless. She’s forcing herself to keep the smile off of her face. “I was unconscious and you took advantage of that!”

Abby just tuts, and gives Clarke a grin. “Sweetheart, it is clear that he wants to be with you too. His reaction and what I saw when you were in the hospital makes that _crystal_ clear. You’re allowed to be happy, and I’m pretty sure he’s the one you’d be happy with. Just think about.”

Oh, she thinks about it. It’s all she ever thinks about.

* * *

 

Bellamy’s hiding in the back room of Lincoln’s mother’s house when the man in question finds him. He’s waiting for a text from Clarke when there’s a light knock on the door. He jerks his head up and finds Lincoln standing there, and Bellamy tips his head to invite him in.

“Is everything okay?”

Bellamy nods and pockets his phone. “Yeah. Just hiding from your cousin. She made it _very_ clear that she’s over eighteen.”

Lincoln snorts a bit. “Lemme guess. Ciera?”

“Ciera,” Bellamy agrees, and Lincoln nods a bit.

“Sorry about that,” Lincoln tells him, and Bellamy shrugs. “She’s always been like that.” The awkward radiates between them and Bellamy shuffles on his feet for a moment, before Lincoln takes a deep breath. “You probably know why I’m here.”

Oh god, here it is. “Yeah, I think I do,” Bellamy says gruffly, clenching his jaw as Lincoln wraps and unwraps his hands.

“Well, you know I love Octavia. Very much,” Lincoln adds, and Bellamy nods a bit. “And I want to marry her and continue loving her for the rest of my life. From what I know you two have always been very close, and you were her parent for several years of her life. Um,” Lincoln pauses and takes a breath, and Bellamy thinks this is the first time he’s ever seen the guy nervous. “You’re her family, and I know that it’s important to both of you, so I wanted to ask for your blessing.”

Bellamy processes the words and fuck, his little sister is going to get married. He’s about to say something when Lincoln fishes in his pocket and pulls out a small box. Bellamy raises his brows. “I’ve had the ring for a couple months,” the other man admits, and holds it out to Bellamy to take. “Clarke and Raven went with me. I was going to ask you a few weeks ago, but then Clarke was in the car accident, and you didn’t need anything else on your plate.”

Bellamy nods again and opens the box. It’s a simple ring, but he knows his sister will love it. “Thanks for that,” he says to Lincoln. Bellamy chews at the inside of his cheek and finds his voice. “You know I’m very protective of my sister.”

“Very aware,” Lincoln agrees, and they pause for a moment as Lincoln’s mother steps in the room for a moment. “Be out in a minute.” She nods and leaves them, and Lincoln waits for Bellamy to speak up again.

This is a hard thing for him. He’s letting this man know that he’s okay with him marrying Octavia. And honestly, he is. It’s weird, and new, and going to take some getting used to, but it’s clear that his sister is beyond happy with Lincoln. Bellamy’s tired of being the only one who’s holding a grudge against the fact that his sister is in love and ready to get married. So he takes a deep breath.

“I love my sister very much, and it’s obvious that you do too. It hasn’t—it hasn’t exactly been easy for me to admit that I like you, but—” Bellamy pauses and closes the ring box, and fuck, he wishes he was better at this. “She’s gonna love the ring.”

Lincoln raises a brow and his face fills with something called elation. “You think?”

Bellamy nods. “Yeah. It was a good choice.” Lincoln’s just pocketed the box when Octavia herself pokes her head in. “Hey, O,” Bellamy says loudly and Lincoln clears his face quickly.

“Hey,” she says, stepping in. “What are you two doing back here?”

“Bellamy was hiding from Ciera,” Lincoln tells her, and Octavia rolls her eyes. She steps into Lincoln’s side and smiles easily at him. Bellamy feels his phone buzz in his pocket, but he ignores it.

“She’s been looking for you,” Octavia teases, and Bellamy shoves her shoulder lightly. “I’m just saying—”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” Bellamy grumbles, running a hand through his hair. Octavia grins and looks between the two of them curiously, but doesn’t say anything. “Time for dinner?”

She nods. “Yeah. Bell, you’re gonna love Lincoln’s mom’s food. I feel like I gain fifteen pounds every time I leave here.” Bellamy laughs a bit and the two men follow her. Bellamy stops Lincoln before they can exit the room, and holds out a hand to him.

Lincoln looks a bit shocked before taking it firmly. “Take good care of her, yeah?” His sister isn’t his responsibility anymore, but he can make sure someone else’s got her.

The man nods. “The best I can.”

And that’s that.

* * *

 

Bellamy’s exhausted. Spending two days and a night with Octavia and Lincoln’s family was almost too much. Only change is that he’s begrudgingly sure that Lincoln is a great fit for Octavia. It’s funny how those things change. He still thinks it’s weird that his sister is getting married, and he’ll always feel like she doesn’t need him anymore, but he just wants her to be happy.

He’s just opened the door and set his bag down by the counter when a whoosh of blonde hair crashes into him. Bellamy laughs as he adjusts his arms around Clarke. “Hey,” she gives him a smile and wraps her arms around his neck. “You okay?” She laughs and nods quickly and Bellamy raises a brow. “Are you drunk again? Because I don’t want to talk about pigeons for another hour.”

“I’m sober, I promise. I just missed you,” Clarke tells him, and Bellamy grins broadly.

“Well, I’m back now,” he replies, squeezing her waist affectionately before stepping back to bring his bag to his room. “How’s your mom?”

“She’s good,” Clarke calls back, and he grins. “She and Marcus spent half of dinner covertly interrogating Zeke about his intentions with Raven. I’m pretty sure Marcus actually sat him down and discussed it with him.” Bellamy snorts and lumbers back to the living room and grins at Clarke. “How was Lincoln’s?”

Bellamy shrugs a bit, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “I have,” Bellamy sighs, “a begrudging respect for him now. He asked for my blessing. I gave it to him.”

“I knew you would, Bellamy,” Clarke says, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “Now it’s only a matter of time.”

He groans a bit, “don’t remind me.”

The room lapses into silence for a few minutes and Bellamy struggles to figure out how to say what he wants to say to her. How to tell her that he’s in love with her and has been for a few months and never wants to fall out of love with her. How to manage that rejection, if he has to. He doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t know what she’ll say. “What are your plans for today?” Clarke finally asks, looking up at him from the couch.

“I wasn’t planning on doing anything,” Bellamy tells her and Clarke grins. “What did you have in mind?”

“It just snowed,” she says, inching towards the door and Bellamy raises a brow. “And I want to beat your ass in a snowball fight.”

“You’re on.”

Ten minutes later, they’re trucking through the snow. It’s cold, and it’s obvious that it’s only going to get colder as the day goes on, but Clarke is tucked into his side as they walk so he really doesn’t care.

They take turns telling each other about their days, and Clarke laughs when he mentions how Octavia nearly fell into the eggnog because she was laughing so hard. Her nose is pink and her cheeks are flushed from the cold and god, he’s so in love with her it’s ridiculous. It doesn’t help that she’s currently pressed into him with her arm wrapped across his back. The day after Christmas might be his new favorite day.

But once they reach the park down the street, that’s all forgotten when she sprints away from him to grab some snow. He’s barely reached down when—splat. Snow hits his shoulder and he looks up with a grin. Clarke shrieks as he tosses some her way, laughing as they go.

He’s had ample practice with snowball fights. He did it all the time when he was a kid and even as he grew up he could never seem to grow out of the boyish thrill you get from a snowball fight. So, he could say that he’s a pretty qualified snowball fighter.

Clarke Griffin, though, is a challenge. She’s quick, and she’s distracting, and she’s brilliant. His hat gets knocked off at some point and snow falls down his jacket, gets lost in his hair. Her laughter is contagious as they race around the near deserted park.

She darts behind a tree as Bellamy gathers a bunch of snow in his hands, “get back out here and fight, you coward!” He teases and he hears her laugh again. Clarke tries to race away from him again but for once, he’s too quick. “No you don’t!” He nails her in the face with a lightly-packed snowball and Clarke wipes it from her face with a look of surprise. “Gotcha!”

She tackles him into a snow drift and they both go down howling with laughter. Bellamy’s smiling so broadly he thinks his cheeks are gonna split by the time they land with an _oof_. He takes a second to catch his breath, staring at the woman hovering above him. Her legs fell on either side of him, and he slides his hands up to her waist. Her hands are braced on his chest.

She’s fucking incredible. Her eyes are shining and there’s snow in her hair and her cheeks are pink and fuck, she’s the most beautiful woman in the entire world. Without a doubt.

“You owe me a hat,” Bellamy says, instead of saying how he feels, “mine is definitely ruined because of that first, unfair snowball.”

“Hey! That was totally fair. You just weren’t ready.”

“You cheated,” he laughs, squeezing her waist lightly, “you totally cheated.”

“Did not.”

“Did too,” he counters, grinning again. “You are such a—” he doesn’t get to finish because Clarke leans down and presses her lips against his lightly, almost nervously. Bellamy doesn’t move for a moment, partly out of shock, and she pulls away quickly. Bellamy can’t breathe. His heart’s beating out of his chest and his stomach has dropped and fuck, why is she looking disappointed?

“Sorry,” she stutters, quickly trying to scramble out of his lap, and that’s what gets Bellamy to move. He sits all the way up and slowly leans in. “Bellamy—”

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” is what he says, and that about does it for the both of them. Bellamy presses his lips against hers gently, and immediately it’s like a spark has shot through his entire body. Because this feels so, so right. Her lips brush against his slowly and he wants to melt into her.

Bellamy cups the back of her neck with his hand and her hands rest on his chest, and this is the gentlest kiss he thinks he’s ever had. Both of their lips are chapped from the cold, but neither of them seem to care. It’s gentle, and it’s slow, and it’s so them that Bellamy could stay right here forever.

Clarke’s hands move up his chest and lock around his neck, and Bellamy pulls her closer, his free hand resting at her waist. She pulls back a bit and lets out a soft breath. Their noses bump and Bellamy can see the flush of pink on her cheeks and god, he loves this woman so much.

Their next kiss is more urgent, more powerful. It’s a searing kiss, a bruising one, and Bellamy decides he doesn’t want this one to end either. Their lips run across each other’s quickly, and he slides his tongue over her bottom lip. She lets out a little noise and he’s gonna lose his mind.

Clarke pulls back first, and her forehead rests against his. Their breath mingles in the cold and a small giggle escapes her. “Hey.”

Bellamy smiles, and grips her waist gently with his hands. “Hey.” He kisses her again, and she responds eagerly. “Fuck, do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

She pulls back further this time, and he nearly groans when she’s too far away to kiss. Now that he’s started, he’s never going to be able to stop. “Fuck, really? Me too.”

“Are we stupid?” Bellamy asks, and Clarke laughs.

“We might be? I don’t know, I don’t care, I just wanna kiss you.”

Bellamy grins and pulls her back to him. “No complaints there.” 

* * *

 

The rest of the night is filled with kisses and smiles and Clarke wants to _melt_. She kissed Bellamy. Bellamy kissed her. She’s giddy like a schoolgirl and she hasn’t been able to wipe the grin off of her face for what feels like hours. She doesn’t think she can get any happier than she is right now.

It’s obvious that Bellamy feels the same way. He hasn’t been able to stop touching her, or kissing her. His smile is the brightest she thinks she’s ever seen it. After getting home, Bellamy lit the fire and Clarke got the hot chocolate with ten marshmallows each. Currently, they’re curled on the couch and Bellamy’s lips are against her temple. The old radio that Bellamy bought from a thrift store plays quietly in the background, and she never wants this to stop.

“Question,” Clarke murmurs, and he pulls back a bit.

“Answer,” Bellamy replies, and she flicks his chest lightly, but he grins. “Seriously, what’s up?”

“Do we wanna tell our friends yet?”

Bellamy pauses before leaning over to set his mug down on the coffee table. “I don’t know. Do you want to tell our friends?”

Clarke worries her lip for a moment, before sighing. “I don’t know. I dunno how long we’d be able to keep it from them, but I don’t want them to get involved yet.” Bellamy raises a brow and Clarke tries to find the correct words to explain how she’s feeling. “I just—you know they’ve been gunning for this for literal months, yeah? I just don’t know if I want them to know yet so we have time to figure it out for ourselves without them bugging us.”

Bellamy nods thoughtfully, before agreeing. “Alright. I’m good with that. It makes sense.”

“Are you sure?”

Bellamy nods again and drops a kiss to her upper lip. “If that’s what you want. Honestly, it would be nice to keep you to myself for a little while without them asking.”

“You’re a smug bastard,” Clarke grumbles, but she’s blushing.

He smiles brightly and slides his hands over her waist to pull her closer. “I guess I just know what I want.” Clarke laughs as he kisses her again, smiling against his mouth. Her fingers clench in his shirt and he groans a bit before drawing back. “Alright, I’ve got a question.”

“Shoot.”

“I wanna do this right,” Bellamy starts, and Clarke raises a brow. “Like, how normal people start a relationship.”

Clarke laughs a bit. “Are we not normal people?”

Bellamy rolls her eyes and kisses her cheek quickly. “Well, most people don’t start a relationship when they’re already living with that person. We kinda did it backwards, Clarke. What I’m saying is that I want to go on a couple dates, see where it goes,” Clarke scoffs at this and he rolls his eyes with a grin. “Obviously we both know where it’s going and I want it to continue to go there for a very long time, but you’re important to me. This is important to me. I want to do it right.”

Clarke’s heart hasn’t stopped growing since the snowball fight. She slides a hand up his neck and cups his cheek, and his eyes close for a second. “You’re the biggest sap I’ve ever met,” is what she says, and Bellamy fakes a scoff. “But if that’s what you want. I’m in. We’ll just have to figure out how to navigate a new relationship and living together from the get-go.”

He smiles widely and leans down to kiss her again. They kiss lazily for a few minutes, as if they’ve been doing it for years, and Clarke is so beyond content.

Bellamy stops suddenly, and Clarke nearly whines. “What?”

He stands up from the couch and Clarke watches with confusion as he turns the radio up. “Come dance with me.”

She raises a brow, and fights to keep the smile off of her face. “Dance with you? I didn’t know you could dance?”

“I mean you already think I’m the biggest sap in the entire world, so I might as well commit to it,” Bellamy says, and Clarke laughs. His eyes shine and she’s never seen them look this soft. He just looks so _happy_. “Clarke baby, c’mere.” But she frowns, because his words bring her back to a moment that she thought she had forgotten. Bellamy frowns back. “What? Everything okay?”

She hesitates, before standing and crossing the small living room to him. He still looks concerned and she takes his hands gently. “I called you after my accident,” she says, and his eyes flash with sadness. Bellamy nods.

“You did. I didn’t know if you remembered it so I never said anything,” Bellamy tells her and she nods.

“I didn’t, until right now,” she murmurs, and his brows furrow. “You called me baby.”

She didn’t think that his cheeks could get pink, but she’s proven wrong. “It slipped out,” he admits, sliding his hands down to her waist. “I panicked and was just trying to get you to calm down, but I think you only cried more.” Bellamy says, and it’s clear that it’s still bugging him.

“Hey,” Clarke mutters, kissing him quickly. “I’m fine. Bellamy, I am so happy.” His eyes light back up and he grins. “And I will dance with you, even if you are the biggest fucking sap.”

Bellamy manages another smile as a new song starts to play on the old radio. She found it funny when he brought it home a few months ago, but now she’s grateful for it.

They sway together for a few seconds, and Clarke rests her head onto his chest. She can feel his heartbeat and she is so, so glad that she’s here.

The song sings about love, typical, and how one was made for the other, and now she’s turning into a sap because it’s making her want to cry. The song is so them, so clearly the story of the two of them, and it’s doing things to her heart. She gets a funny feeling that they were made for each other, long before she knew it.

Bellamy mixes it up and spins her a bit, and Clarke laughs as she nearly crashes back into his chest. He chuckles and they attempt to dance with each other, but it’s only ending in laughter and smiles and kisses. He hums the tune into her hair and she can’t get the smile off of her face. Bellamy laughs when she tries to spin him and he can’t fit under her arm.

“This would’ve worked if you weren’t short,” he teases, and she squeezes his sides. Bellamy grins and they chase each other around the living room for a moment, contagious laughter following them around like kites. By the time he’s caught up to her, the song is coming to an end. He’s cornered her by the couch, and she has no other option than to kiss him. Not like she’s going to choose any option other than kissing him. She wants to stay right here forever.

Unfortunately, the knock on the door sends everything to a halt.

“Unbelievable,” Bellamy grumbles as Clarke slides away from him. “Even when I’ve finally tricked you into kissing me someone interrupts.” Clarke kicks his leg lightly as he passes and he smirks at her. When he opens the door, she’s shocked to see Octavia and Lincoln standing there.

Octavia looks like she’s about to burst, and Clarke knows what this is. Her friend immediately jumps at her brother with a scream and Bellamy looks absolutely bewildered. “Bell!” He raises a brow and she shows him her hand, and everything clicks.

Then Clarke shrieks, and the two women are hugging and crying a little. “Wait, wait lemme see!” Octavia holds out her hand and Clarke wants to cry some more because one of her best friends is now _engaged_. The ring is beautiful on her finger and Clarke knew she would love it. “How—when—spill!”

Octavia squeals like a child and launches into the story of how Lincoln proposed. Their first date all of those years ago was a hike, and today Lincoln took her back to that spot. Then he dropped to one knee. “I didn’t even let him finish,” Octavia says with a bright grin, “I was just—Clarke, I’m so happy.”

Clarke wraps her friend in a tight, joyful hug and watches as Bellamy shakes Lincoln’s hand. There will be time to talk about it later. The smile on his face is unmistakable, though, and it makes her feel very warm and happy.

Congratulations are said, and everything is so good. There’s no way it can get better than this.

Clarke rests her head on Bellamy’s chest after he locks the door behind Octavia and Lincoln when they’re finally leaving. She’s happy but sleepy, and Bellamy notices. He can’t help but smile. “Go to bed, Clarke. You can be happy tomorrow morning.”

“Can I sleep with you?” She tries, and Bellamy wraps his arms around her.

He laughs and shakes his head. “Clarke,” she makes a face and he mirrors the same one back to her. “Taking it slow doesn’t mean sleeping in the same bed from the get go.”

Clarke grumbles and looks up at him, using her best begging face. “We’ve slept in the same bed before,” she counters and Bellamy narrows his eyes.

“I know. But that was before I could kiss you whenever I wanted,” he tells her, and Clarke can feel her cheeks go warm. “Go to sleep. I will be here in the morning.”

And he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EVERYTHING IS HAPPY NOW AND I AM SO HAPPY
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clxrkeblxke or twitter @saucybellamy!


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is basically a giant game of sexual chicken and sneaky bellarke so like, we're obviously all thriving
> 
> it's also really weird that this is almost over???? idk how to feel about it im gonna be so sad omfg
> 
> also might be a couple errors that I missed so sry if there are lol

On December 29th, Clarke has to go back to work.

It’s not that she’s scared to go back to work, no. Clarke’s excited to be going back. She’s been bored out of her mind for the past few weeks, despite everyone’s best efforts. She wants to get back into it.

No, she’s terrified to drive again. It’s hard enough to even sit in the passenger seat of a car, and she’s not sure how she’s going to fare actually driving. Bellamy managed to get her to sit in the driver’s seat, but she refused to drive. It’s been over a month since her accident and she’s still paranoid and anxious about even getting on the road.

That, and the fact that she couldn’t forget what it feels like to kiss Bellamy, kept her up all night. She’s still over the moon over about everything that’s happened in the last few days, but admittedly she’s a little anxious. Starting a new relationship with someone that she already cares about so deeply is a little scary. Combine that with them not really having a lot of time to talk about it in the last few days, and she’s kinda freaking out.

She can’t help but wonder if it’s going to cause more problems between them, or their friend group. What happens if they break up, or get into one of their explosive fights? How are they going to handle it now, knowing that there are higher stakes on the line?

Clarke chews on her lip and her hands shake as she waits for her coffee to brew. It’s the first morning she’s had to wake up super early in a while, and her body still needs to adjust.

Bellamy, however, does not need to adjust because that man can wake up at any time and feel fine. She’d be jealous if she wasn’t so nervous. He reaches around her to grab his coffee cup, and starts to pull back, but then frowns. Bellamy then leans back in to kiss her cheek. “Forgot that I can do that now,” he murmurs, and Clarke manages a smile.

“You can,” she replies quietly, and he kisses her cheek sweetly again. She tries to tell herself to relax, but the realization that she has to drive again is taking over every one of her thoughts. She leans against the counter as Bellamy looks through the fridge to find something to eat.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you this early in the morning,” he starts, pulling a couple eggs from the fridge, “but is there a reason why you’re up?” She chews at his lip as his eyes land on the schedule passed on the fridge. His eyes widen. “Oh, fuck.”

“I have to drive,” Clarke responds dully, and Bellamy sets the eggs down before leaning against the counter next to her. She fiddles with the sleeve of her shirt. “I’m—” she sighs in frustration and he waits pariently. “I’m happy to be going back to work. I like work, I like my job, and I’ve missed it the last month. But I’m so scared to drive, Bellamy. What if something happens, or I get in another car accident? What if—”

“Hey,” he says gently, running a hand up her arm. She leans into his side and tries to leach some strength out of him. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

“But—”

“Saying but isn’t going to make this any easier, Clarke,” Bellamy tells her, and she clamps her mouth shut. “I know it’s scary. Driving again after an accident is terrifying. You remember when Octavia got rear-ended by that truck while you were in college? She didn’t want to be anywhere near a car for a few weeks. But did she start driving again?” Clarke nods a little timidly, and he nods back. “It might just take a little time getting used to. Do you want me to drive you?”

She thinks about it for a moment, but knows if she doesn’t start driving again then she never will. Clarke shakes her head. “I know I need to, but—.”

“It’s just scary,” Bellamy answers, and she nods. “What time do you need to leave?”

Clarke glances at her watch and frowns. “About fifteen minutes.”

“Lemme make you breakfast. First day back to work is better with a full stomach,” he tells her, and Clarke is so fond of him. He kisses her cheek again, and gets to work. She’s thankful for him. He’s been helpful about the whole situation, especially the driving thing. He’s just—he’s so positive, and encouraging, and she doesn’t want to disappoint him. She wants to feel better about driving again, and she knows that he’s the best person to help her do that.

Once they’ve eaten and she’s changed for work, he walks her out to her car. After the accident, they were miraculously able to repair her car. The frame wasn’t damaged, thankfully, and it was a lot of cosmetic things that needed to be fixed. Raven and Zeke took it on for free, and they’re both so fucking good at their jobs that they were able to fix it.

It’s freezing outside, but she’s grateful that Bellamy’s leaving the warmth of their apartment to make sure she’s okay. He rubs his hands together as she tosses her bag into the passenger seat. Fear seizes her, and she swallows thickly. Bellamy brushes a bit of snow off of the hood of her car and glances at her. “Hey. You’re gonna be fine. There’s no ice on the roads right now. Just let me know when you’re there?”

Clarke nods a little and he crosses to her to give her a hug. She’s grateful for his embrace, and his positivity. She presses her face into his neck and she feels him kiss the side of her head. “What day are you done?”

“New Years,” she grumbles, “I’m done at two in the morning.”

Bellamy groans. “So you’re missing New Years?”

“Unfortunately,” she replies, and he frowns. “At least we won’t have to hide it from everyone. It would really suck if we were both there and couldn’t kiss each other.”

Bellamy grins a bit and ducks his head. “Yeah, well, it’s really gonna suck when I still can’t kiss you because you won’t be there.” Clarke finally cracks a smile and he grins triumphantly. “I knew I could make you smile.”

She shoves at his chest but he only laughs. “You’re a fucking sap,” she says, and he snorts. “I cannot _believe_ that I’m letting this happen.”

Bellamy grins and helps her into the car. She’s still shaking a little, but she feels less nervous with Bellamy right to the car. “Hey, when you get home in a couple days we’ll talk about all of this. I know it’s a lot, and I know that you’re probably freaking out about it. The last few days have been a little crazy with the holidays and our friends, so we haven’t really had a chance to figure everything out.” Clarke nods a bit, and worries her bottom lip. “Nothing bad,” he adds quickly at the drop of her face, “but we do need to get some stuff sorted beyond the ‘I like you, you like me’ kinda thing.” Clarke nods again, but has to hide her face so he doesn’t see through her. Her feelings for him run a lot deeper than just liking him. But he doesn’t have to know that yet.

“Sounds good,” she manages, and puts her hands on the wheel. “I’ll—” She swallows. “I’ll text you when I’m there.”

“Alright,” Bellamy says quietly. “You’re gonna be fine. If anything happens, which I don’t think it will, just call me and we’ll figure it out.”

“Thank you,” she tells him softly, and he nods. “I mean it.” Bellamy smiles a bit, before planting a quick kiss to her lips. Ever since it’s started, she hasn’t been able to stop. She doesn’t know if she wants to. He grins against her mouth when she tries to hold him there.

“Jesus, Clarke. You’re making it very difficult for me to let you go to work,” he teases, groaning a bit when she finally pulls back.

“I’m not going to see you for three days,” she responds with a smile, and Bellamy looks at her fondly.

“You’re something else, you know that?” He grins, finally stepping back from the car. “You’re gonna be fine, Clarke.”

She nods, and anxiety fills her stomach again, but she’s able to put the car into reverse.

The ride to work is slow and terrifying. Every time a car gets too close to her she gets more and more anxious Her hands grip the steering wheel tightly and all she can think about is getting there safely.

She doesn’t take the road that she got into an accident on. It was a roundabout way anyways, one that she took to go pick up dinner that night. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever take that road again. Clarke is a little later getting there because of her cautiousness, but she doesn’t care.

By the time she’s put the car into park in her spot, her hands have stopped shaking. She’s still filled with anxiety, but she made it. She’s alive. No accidents. Nothing is wrong.

Clarke lets out a breath and sets her head on her steering wheel. God. She did it. She manages a breath and gets her body to stop shaking enough to let Bellamy know she made it. Knowing him, he’s probably been pacing the living room waiting for her text.

Just as she’s sent it, someone knocks on her window. She jumps a bit, but then smiles when she sees it’s Jackson. “Fancy seeing you here,” he says when Clarke steps out into the cold. “You alright?”

Clarke nods and makes sure to lock her car. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. I made it, didn’t I?”

Jackson grins, “you did. Never doubted you, Griffin.” He nudges her side as they walk into the hospital, and Clarke’s phone buzzes with a text from Bellamy. _Knew you could do it._ A hint of pride and gratefulness fills her. She did do it. Now she’s just gotta find a way to get used to it again.

* * *

 

New Years is a fun night. It would be more fun if Clarke were there, but even then Bellamy couldn’t kiss her, so it kinda sucks. He knows that they still have to figure out what exactly they’re doing, but he would still love to kiss her. Ring in the New Year with the person he’s been pining over for half of a year. Typical that he can’t.

Bellamy knows that the conversation they have to have is going to go fine, but he can tell that Clarke is anxious about it. It’s who she is, it’s what she does, and he loves her still, but he wishes she would breathe a little.

He just wants to make sure that they’re on the same page about what’s going on. He wants a relationship. He wants to see if she does, too. Bellamy’s pretty sure that things are going to be fine, but he knows it’s going to be difficult going from friends (or, should he call them friends who’ve been kind of in love with the other for a while) to dating. Especially if they live together.

He doesn’t exactly expect them to last long in different rooms, but it’s the sentiment that counts. It’s worth a shot, at least.

Bellamy’s phone lights up at midnight with a text from Clarke. Looking around, he finds that their friends are occupied with their significant others, so he opens it with a grin. Clarke has sent him the kiss emoji. It’s as good as a New Year’s Kiss can get for them, honestly. The next test comes in after, telling him that she’ll be home around two.

He goes to respond, but then Murphy descends on him. “Feeling lonely yet?”

Bellamy rolls his eyes, “I’ve got a beer. I’m great,” he replies, holding it up for his friend to examine.

Murphy narrows his eyes. Out of all of their friends, he’s the most suspicious. He knows Bellamy pretty well, and he’s definitely noticed that he’s been much happier since Christmas. “Why have a beer when you could kiss Clarke?”

“Well I can’t do that,” Bellamy says, grinning, “because we’re not together. Can’t kiss someone if you’re not together. And she’s not here, so.” Murphy’s eyes narrow even more. “Just saying.”

“ _I’m_ just saying that you’ve been too happy lately, and I know it’s not because you have to go back to work on Monday.”

Bellamy shrugs, taking a swig of his beer. “Holiday spirit, Murphy. You should try it sometime.”

Murphy whacks him on the head and he’s saved from being interrogated when Emori calls for him. Bellamy opens his phone again and taps out a quick message to Clarke.

 **Bellamy** : Murphy’s onto us

 **Clarke** : when is he not onto us?

He grins and types out another message.

 **Bellamy** : Good point. We’ll just be more careful.

 **Bellamy** : Unless you want to tell them?

It takes her a few minutes to respond and he watches his friends laugh and drink and all he can do is smile.

 **Clarke** : im good existing in our little bubble rn, maybe in a couple weeks

 **Bellamy** : As long as I don’t have to share you

Clarke responds with a cheesy smiley face and he grins at his phone before pocketing it. It’s weird without her here, but at least he finally got the girl.

* * *

 

On New Year’s Day, Clarke sleeps until noon. When she finally wakes up, the apartment is quiet but she knows Bellamy’s here somewhere. She stretches, and then realizes that she’s not in her bed. The comforter is thicker, and the sheets are softer than hers. She’s definitely in Bellamy’s bed. The question is, how did she get into Bellamy’s bed? Everything from her last night of work is kind of a blur, and she was extra exhausted, so she’s not really sure. So much for taking it slow.

But, at least she doesn’t have to be worried about him being weirded out. They are finally figuring their shit out. Her stomach knots at the idea of finally talking to him about what it is they’re doing. She knows what she wants, and she’s fairly certain that he wants the same thing, but it’s still weird having to talk about it.

Clarke finally drags herself out of bed after lounging there for what feels like hours. She thinks she’d be content to just curl up in his blankets for the rest of her life, but unfortunately she has responsibilities. Rubbing at her eyes, Clarke pads into the living room to find Bellamy on the couch with his computer. His face lights up with a smile when he catches sight of her. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

Clarke smiles sleepily at him and cuddles up on the couch next to him. He throws an arm over her shoulder as she reaches for her blanket. “Morning,” she murmurs. “How did I get in your bed?”

Bellamy chuckles a bit. “I’m not sure. I woke up as you were getting into bed around two-thirty. Long shift?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” she grumbles, “I know I said I was happy to be back, but I forgot how tiring it is.” Bellamy nods and she continues. “I don’t really remember getting into bed.”

“Maybe you subconsciously decided that you wanted to be with me?” She flicks his chest, and Bellamy snickers. “I wasn’t complaining.”

Clarke rests her head on his shoulder and looks down at his work. “What’re you working on?”

Bellamy sighs and runs his free hand through his hair. “Just going over some plans for AP testing later in the semester. We have to submit all of the dates for our afterschool study sessions by the 15th, so I’m working on it now.” Clarke nods and listens to him talk about school and how he’s frustrated that he still hasn’t gotten his list for the new semester even though they go back to school in less than a week. Finally, he pauses. “You know we have to talk about it.”

The blonde grumbles and curls further into his side and he chuckles. “I know. I just don’t want to.”

Bellamy chuckles a bit and drops a kiss to her head. “Well, let’s make it as easy as possible. I like you, and you like me, yeah?” Like is not a strong enough word for what she feels for Bellamy, but she nods anyway. It’s far too early to bring love into the equation. “Cool. So do you want to be in a relationship? Because I do.”

Clarke raises a brow and looks at him. She can feel her cheeks going pink from the strength of his gaze, and she nods. “It’s that simple?”

Bellamy grins a bit. “Nothing has ever been simple with me, but it’s easy with you.”

“Sap,” Clarke says, and Bellamy makes a face.

“Don’t make me regret being sweet to you,” he grumbles, but he puts his laptop to the side and pulls her into his lap. Clarke’s legs straddle his hips and his hands fall to her waist. “I’m serious. This is the easiest decision I’ve ever made.”

Clarke feels her heart fill with something called elation and smiles widely. “You’re a sap, but you’re a sweetheart,” she tells him, and Bellamy grins. It’s like she’s on this high and she’s never gonna come down from it. “Cool. Are you my boyfriend now?”

“As long as you’re my girlfriend,” Bellamy agrees, before Clarke leans to kiss him. She can’t get enough of him. Seriously, it’s like she was drowning and he’s her first breath of fresh air. As cheesy as that sounds. Bellamy responds enthusiastically, pulling her closer. Clarke’s breath hitches as her fingers clutch at his shirt. Goosebumps erupt across her body as Bellamy’s lips slide over hers, and she’s dizzy.

She runs her tongue over his lip and his mouth opens, and oh, this is incredible. Bellamy’s hands slip under the hem of her (his) flannel and skim along her skin and fuck, his _hands_. She wants his hands in other places. A fire burns within her that can only be put out by him. She wants more, she wants him closer. As close as he can be. As soon as Clarke starts to press down on his lap, to find some of that wonderful friction, he pulls back. She groans and he lets out a strangled laugh.

“I meant what I said about going slower,” he manages, his voice strained. “Jesus, I want to, but I meant it.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke groans, and he gives in for a moment, peppering kisses over her jaw. But he still pulls back. “Not only are you a sap, you’re a tease too.”

His laugh is shaky as he pushes her back a little. It’s no use, because she still wants to be closer. “Clarke,” he warns with a teasing voice, and she finally frowns and slides off of him reluctantly. “I’m serious. This—this is important to me. Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this, wanted you? I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“You’re not going to fuck it up, Bellamy,” Clarke tells him, tucking her legs under her. “If anything we’ll fuck it up together.” He laughs at that, and she grins. “How long?”

Bellamy makes the face he does when he’s thinking, before letting out a low breath of air. “It feels like ages,” he admits. “At least since June.”

“ _June_?” Clarke nearly screeches. “We really are idiots.”

He raises a brow. “What, are you telling me that you felt the same way all this time?”

Clarke feels a spark of embarrassment rise into her cheeks as he looks at her. “Not—not exactly,” his brows come together. “It’s—it’s kind of been longer?”

“ _Longer_? Since when?”

Her face goes tomato red as she remembers she moment she realized she liked Bellamy. God, what a shitty day that was. “I—” she pauses, and feels more embarrassment fill her. “It was the day I met Echo.” Bellamy’s jaw drops a bit, and he stares at her. “Yeah. It’s been a long few months.”

“The day you met her?” Bellamy asks, still in disbelief.

Clarke manages a nod. “Yeah. Like, I walked in, you introduced me, and I felt like I had been hit by a bus.”

Bellamy’s eyes are still wide and he looks at her. “You couldn’t—you couldn’t have figured that out a week beforehand?”

Clarke scoffs and tries to scoot away from him, but he’s too quick. He’s got his arms wrapped around her tightly. “Bellamy, I literally didn’t have a clue.”

“I’m just saying,” he says, “if we had had this conversation say, before you met her, we could’ve been dating for months at this point.”

Now her brows raise. “Months? Were you into me before you dated Echo?”

Bellamy pauses and has to think. He furrows his brows and Clarke plays with the curls on the nape of his neck. “I think? I think I was into you before, but then I convinced myself I wasn’t because you’re my best friend. And then I dated Echo, but then she broke up with me because apparently I’m transparent when it comes to feelings and—”

“Echo broke up with you because of me?” This is news to her. He never exactly shared the details of his breakup, and now she’s finding out why. She’s still kind of in shock, and he looks a little sheepish as he finds his words.

“Well, not exactly? Not you directly—more of my feelings for you.”

She raises a brow. “You had feelings for me while you were in a relationship with someone else?”

Bellamy makes a face, and she frowns. “What is that look for?” He asks, and Clarke chews on her lip. “Look, it wasn’t as if I was actively thinking about you all of the time, it just—it started up again one day and then I realized I was jealous.”

Clarke looks at her hands. “I just—I’ve been the other woman before.”

Bellamy looks confused for a moment, before his eyes soften. “Hey. Nothing ever happened between us while Echo and I were dating. I mean, we yelled at each other for two months straight but I never acted on anything.”

She nods and feels a little bit better. She would hate to be that person again. Even if she didn’t even know she was going it. “Clarke, the relationship was doomed anyways. Me being jealous finally just gave it a push to end.” Well, looks like everything is coming out today.

Now, she raises a brow. “Jealous? What were you jealous of?”She knows the answer, she just wants to hear it for sure.

Bellamy looks sheepish when he finally replies, “I was jealous when you hooked up with Niylah and Roan. I didn’t realize it until Roan,” he says, and Clarke’s stomach drops. “But it was very clearly there.”

“Can I tell you something?” Clarke asks quickly. If everything’s coming out today, she might as well tell him this. Bellamy raises a brow and waits patiently. “I didn’t—I didn’t actually sleep with Roan?” His jaw drops again and Clarke hurries to finish. “Well like, we did things, but before we could actually have sex I started crying?”

“You started crying?”

Clarke’s cheeks are burning. “I—yeah? I got sad because I wanted it to be you, but then I got even sadder because I felt like I was being a bitch and—stop laughing at me!” Now Bellamy looks downright amused and Clarke wants the ground to swallow her up. “I’m serious, I felt so bad, so we didn’t do anything but you thought we did and I wasn’t going to tell you because you looked so—”

Bellamy cuts her off with a kiss and Clarke falls silent. “You’re hysterical,” he says when he pulls back, and Clarke’s cheeks are still pink. “I mean, this definitely makes me feel better, but—” she shoves at his chest lightly and Bellamy’s smile is bright. “You started crying because it wasn’t me, oh my god.”

“It was a hard time!” Clarke protests, “we weren’t talking to each other and I was annoyingly still attracted to you and—” she huffs at his wolfish grin, before scooting away to the edge of the couch. “You’re annoying and I cannot believe I just agreed to be in a relationship with you.”

Bellamy’s grin widens, and he reaches for her leg, but she pulls it back with a grin. “I mean you could break up with me, but I think our friends would be disappointed if our long-awaited relationship lasted about ten minutes.”

She snorts and he reaches over to pull her back to him. “I think I would be disappointed if our long-awaited relationship lasted ten minutes,” Clarke says teasingly, and Bellamy huffs out a laugh.

“I would hope so, considering you started crying before sex because _it wasn’t me_ ,” he mutters, and Clarke frowns.

“You’re never gonna let me forget that, are you?”

He kisses her cheek with a grin. “Never.”

Clarke chews at her lip for a moment before sighing. “How are we gonna do this?”

“Do what?”

She gestures to the two of them. “This. Living together at the start of a new relationship. Our friends.”

“I don’t know if I’d call this a new relationship,” Bellamy muses, propping his socked feet up on the coffee table. “It’s not like we’ve both been apparently pining after each other for months. But I know what you mean. I guess we just set some ground rules for now, and see how it goes in the next few weeks. We’ll just take it day by day, and see what has to be changed.”

Clarke nods and rests her legs across his. “Yeah, okay. How different do you think it’ll be?” He raises a brow. “Like, do you think it’s gonna be weird, making that shift?”

Bellamy shrugs. “I dunno. Honestly, it’s felt like we’ve been in a relationship for months besides the fact that I couldn’t kiss you. Part of me thinks that’s going to be the only thing that changes. I know that it’s not, but it just feels so normal already.”

Clarke tips her head into a nod. “That’s fair. We’ll just give it a couple days and see what we need to talk about. What about our friends?”

“I’m good with keeping it from them for a little bit. I don’t want them to get involved yet, because we’re still figuring it out. I think Murphy suspects something, apparently I’ve been too happy,” he says, and Clarke laughs, “so I think I have to go back to my angry, pre-relationship self so he doesn’t catch on.”

“Hey, I think your angry, pre-relationship self was hot.”

“You’re hot.”

“Your flirting is miserable,” Clarke says with a laugh, and once again Bellamy silences her with a kiss. When they pull back, she presses one to his cheek. “I’m good with it being between us. I bet Jasper will have a stroke when we finally tell them.”

“I think they all will,” Bellamy replies, and Clarke thinks about it for a moment. “Octavia’s going to lose her mind. She’s wanted this for _years_ I think.”

Clarke remembers in college when Octavia drunkenly brought up the fact that she and Bellamy would make a good couple, if they would just stop arguing. Turns out Octavia was right. Even if it took them longer to get there than anyone anticipated. “She has. She’s going to be so mad at us for not telling her.”

Bellamy shrugs. “She can deal with it. She hid Lincoln from me for like, four months.” Clarke laughs and he looks at her with an expression she can’t place. “You’re happy, right?”

She nods quickly and cups his cheek to kiss him. His mouth moves lazily against her for a few seconds, before she pulls back. He rests his forehead on hers. “I’m so happy, Bell. I’m serious. It took us both months to get our heads out of our asses but—” she worries her lip and Bellamy waits.

It would be so easy to tell him. To tell him that she’s beyond in love with him, and wants to be for a very long time. The words are on the tip of her tongue before she swallows them back. Because he wants to go slow, and going slow doesn’t mean saying I love you a few days into the relationship. “But I’m happy we got there,” she finally says, and if he notices her hesitation, he doesn’t mention it.

Bellamy just kisses her again, and again. 

* * *

 

Bellamy drags his feet to the door of his apartment. He’s exhausted. Going back to work after a break always sucks, but it seemed worse this time. Probably something to do with the fact that now he has a girlfriend that he can’t seem to get enough of. Girlfriend. God, that’s gonna take some getting used to. He was so certain it was never going to happen, but look where they are.

He finds the front door unlocked, and Clarke is sitting curled on the couch with a book. She gives him a smile when she sees him, and he manages one back. “You alright? Clarke asks, her eyes still scanning the pages.

Bellamy nods and yawns, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Can we take a nap?”

The blonde looks up with a soft smile. “Long day?”

He nods again, dropping his backpack on the ground by the kitchen table. “Unbelievably long. I want to sleep until tomorrow morning.”

Clarke dog-ears the corner of the page she’s on and sets it on the table. “Let’s get too it, then.” Bellamy sighs gratefully and trudges back to his room, flopping onto his bed without a second thought. His eyes shut tightly and he hears Clarke laugh. “Don’t you want to take your shoes off?”

“Don’t care,” he mumbles, pressing his face into his pillow. He can almost feel Clarke’s eyes rolling, so he kicks them off before settling deeper into his bed. “You’re so far away,” he murmurs. Her hands slide up his back gently and he shudders at the feeling.

It’s not that he regrets setting the ‘let’s go slow’ rule, because he doesn’t. Bellamy knew it was the best option for them, given their history and how much they mean to one another. It helps them develop an actual relationship, like normal people do. But god, it’s destroying him. And his sanity.

Knowing that he can kiss and touch her whenever he wants is driving him crazy. It also doesn’t help that she’s taken to sleeping in the flannel that she stole from him (by all means, it’s her flannel, now) and he wants to know what’s under the flannel. Because yeah, he already knows that she’s incredible and brilliant and gorgeous and literally everything he’s ever wanted in a girlfriend, but he just wants all of her. Bellamy feels hypocritical for saying that when he was the one who suggested going slow, but she agreed to it. He’s just going _insane_.

Bellamy feels the bed dip and he knows that she’s finally moving closer. He blinks his eyes open and stares blearily at her as she runs a hand through his hair gently. Her touch is soothing and calming, and his eyes droop again. “C’mere,” she says, and he obeys without even thinking about it. Bellamy rests his head on her sternum and lets out a low sigh, immediately relaxing onto her.

If she thinks that he’s heavy, she doesn’t say anything about it. Her fingers just cord through his hair gently and Bellamy never wants it to stop. “You’re the best girlfriend in the entire world,” he murmurs sleepily without even thinking about it. “I’m so fucking glad we’re dating.”

He doesn’t hear her reply, because he’s drifted off before she can do anything other than laugh. 

* * *

 

A couple hours later when he wakes up, his head is still on Clarke’s sternum. She’s asleep now, too. Bellamy rubs at his eyes and lifts his head up before falling onto his back. He needs to start dinner, but she’s so warm and right there, and he can’t help but pull her into his side. Clarke murmurs something incoherent in her sleep and Bellamy grins a bit.

Bellamy slides a hand over her waist and dips it under her sweatshirt to feel her skin. She shifts again before waking up. “Move your hands,” she grumbles. “They’re freezing.”

“I’ll warm them up,” he murmurs, and she swats them away, but he only slides them further around her waist. Clarke yelps and he grins wickedly.

“You’re the worst,” she mumbles, rolling to face him. “Waking me up in the middle of my nap.”

“We can take hundreds of naps,” Bellamy replies, and she presses her face to his collarbone. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Clarke hums against him, before pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck. His breath gets caught in his throat. “I know. I just like giving you a hard time.”

Bellamy chuckles low in his throat before her hand comes to tangle in his curls. She pulls herself up so she’s closer to him, and kisses him. It starts out gently, like most of their kisses do. But then it’s turned into a searing one, one that he never wants to stop.

His heart is hammering out of his chest at the feeling of her mouth against his. Fuck, he hates that they wasted so much time pining after one another. They could have been doing this for months. He loves her so much.

Bellamy pulls back and trails his lips along her jaw, and she lets out a noise he’s never heard before. He decides that he want to hear that noise for the rest of his life. Clarke’s fingers grip in his hair lightly and his dip under her sweatshirt again to feel her body. She hisses, but it’s replaced by a sigh when he sucks on a new spot.

His mind dimly tells him that they’re trying to go slow, but he wants to touch all of her at once. He wants to map every inch of her body with his mouth and hands, he wants to see what makes her tick, what she likes, what she doesn’t like. Everything.

Clarke crashes their mouths back together and he responds eagerly, slipping his tongue into her mouth. She groans into the kiss, and _fuck_. He rolls them and soon she’s leaning over him, her legs straddling his hips. Her hair blocks the outside world from them, and his hands travel up her back.

Bellamy lets out a low growl from his throat when Clarke sits back. She looks incredible. Her lips are swollen and her hair is a little bit of a mess, but she’s smiling so brightly. His hands slide up her sides to her hips, his fingers teasing at her waistband. “You’re a fucking tease,” she grumbles, squirming on his lap. Bellamy’s eyes nearly roll into the back of his head. Fuck, it would be so easy. So easy just to let go and have fun with her. Her eyes flash with a mischievous glint, and Bellamy waits for whatever she’s going to do next.

When she does it, he swears he’s going to lose his mind. He watches as Clarke inches her sweatshirt up, revealing more and more skin as she goes. “Oh, _I’m_ the tease?” He manages, his hands squeezing tightly at her hips.

“Two can play at that game, don’t you think?” She teases, tossing the sweatshirt off. It leaves her in just her bra and Bellamy’s mouth goes dry.

His eyes don’t know where to stop. He wants to take her in all at once. Everything about her is absolutely gorgeous. Her skin is soft and her breasts are full and fuck, he’s so lucky. He’s so in love with her. “Fuck,” he groans, “you’re fucking perfect, Clarke.” Her entire body flushes, and then she squirms some more, and he’s doomed.

Bellamy pulls her back down to kiss her, and everything is hot and heavy between them. Her fingers tangle in his hair again and his slide to her behind, squeezing it. She pulls back and yelps, and he laughs. It doesn’t last long, because then her hands are skirting around the sensitive skin of his stomach, and his laughter dies in his throat.

Clarke groans when his hips lift to meet hers, and then her fingers are running over his chest, seemingly trying to get his shirt off. “You gotta get the buttons first, babe,” he says smugly, and her eyes go a little darker and _god_.

He doesn’t regret his words when her hands actually manage to get his shirt off, and then her hands don’t know where to stop. “It is unfair that you look this good,” Clarke groans, and Bellamy huffs out a low laugh.

“Yeah, and it’s unfair that—” Bellamy doesn’t finish because she kisses him again, this time with more urgency. Clarke grinds down onto him, and they both let out a low moan. He’s hard now, and he knows that she feels it, and his eyes are going to pop out of his head. She rolls her hips in circles against his dick, and her tits press into his chest and—

“We’ve gotta stop,” he forces out, pulling back from her lips. “We gotta—fuck, Clarke.” His breath is short and her cheeks are flushed, and god, he wants her more than anything.

“We do gotta fuck,” she groans, and Bellamy lets out a sharp breath. He shifts under her and her eyes go a little wider. “ _Bellamy_.”

He runs his hands through his hair, and tries to calm himself down, but it’s nearly impossible with his girlfriend straddling him. “I know. I know, but we both agreed—we agreed.”

“I hate this agreement,” Clarke grumbles, pressing her forehead to his cheek and Bellamy lets out another breath. “I know why we need to but—it sucks.”

Bellamy laughs and gently rolls her off of him. He needs to alleviate the problem in his pants and he can’t do that with Clarke on his lap. She glances at him with a brow raised and a glint in her smile. “Did I do that?”

“Did you do—of course you fucking did that,” Bellamy groans, pressing his heels of his hands into his eyes. “Clarke do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?”

Clarke laughs a bit. “You’re vulgar when you’re turned on,” she hums, and his laugh gets caught in his throat as her hands skim on his stomach again. “I mean, I can help with that if you want.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy warns, but his body gives him away. Does he want her mouth on his body? Absolutely. Is it the right time? Absolutely not.

She laughs a bit, her voice low and soothing. “Technically, this wouldn’t be sex. It would just be me getting you off.” Her hands are still on his stomach and his waistband and Bellamy’s always prided himself on his restraint, but it’s _Clarke_.

“Clarke,” he warns again, trying to push every thought of her from his mind. “You’re making this incredibly difficult.”  Bellamy opens his eyes to find her grinning at him, and he almost tells her to go for it. Almost. “You drive a hard bargain,” he finally says, and she sticks her tongue out at him. “Not yet.”

“Ugh,” she grumbles, flopping down next to him. “You and your morals.” Bellamy laughs loudly at her tone of voice.

Bellamy reaches into his pocket to grab his phone to help him think about something other than his half-naked girlfriend laying a foot from him. Then, his stomach drops.

“Oh, fuck.”

“What?” Clarke asks, lifting her head up on her hand to look at him.

“Octavia messaged twenty minutes ago saying she’s coming over—” the front door lock clicks and the door opens. Both of their heads jerk up. “Fuck, Octavia’s _here_.”

It’s a mad, quiet scramble out of bed. Bellamy tosses her the sweatshirt from the floor. They fumble around as quietly as they can because his sister’s in their apartment. “Wait,” he hisses, pulling her back when she tries to walk out the door, “she can’t see you walk out of my room.”

“Where do you recommend I go?” Clarke asks, as Octavia calls for him.

“Fuck, just—” His eyes scan his room. “Just stay in here.” Bellamy tugs his shirt over his head and prays to every god out there that he doesn’t look like he’s just been rolling in bed with Clarke.

“Bellamy?”

“Hey, O,” he says as he leaves his room. “I wasn’t paying attention.” Yeah, he had absolutely no idea that she was going to be here. Imagine if he and Clarke had gone further. Octavia would’ve gotten an eyeful. That thought alone causes his hormones to stop all together.

“Clearly,” she says, and then raises a brow at him. “Are you okay?”

“What? Yeah. Why, why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Octavia stares at him for another moment. “You’re just acting a little weird.”

“No I’m not,” Bellamy protests, and Octavia still looks skeptical. “I just—I just woke up from a nap.”

She still stares and then— “Are you sure you were just napping? Actually,” she grimaces, “never mind, don’t answer that.” Bellamy feels his face burn. “Anyways,” Octavia says, moving into the kitchen and he’s pretty sure that she’s directly avoiding his gaze. “I wanted to ask you and Clarke something.”

“Clarke’s not here,” Bellamy says slowly, trying to look as normal as possible as he reaches into the fridge to pretend he’s looking for something.

“Where is she?”

“I have no idea,” Bellamy lies, and once again, Octavia looks skeptical.

“You know where she is like, all of the time,” his sister points out. Dammit, she’s got him there. She waves her hand and keeps talking. “Whatever, um, I know you have Mom’s wedding dress somewhere around here because she wanted you to keep it until I got married, and I want to see it just in case.”

Bellamy realizes that the wedding dress is in a box _in his room_. Fuck. “Uh. Yeah. I can—I can go grab it.” He’s halfway down the hallway when he realizes that Octavia is following him. “I can just bring it out here, it’s really no problem.”

“Oh I don’t mind,” she says, following him and Bellamy desperately tries to think of a solution to not let her in his room. “It’ll take like, ten seconds.”

“I—yeah.”

And then the door is opening and Bellamy braces himself for his sister to start yelling, but it doesn’t come.

Clarke is nowhere to be seen. It doesn’t even look like she’s been in here. “Well?”

“Sorry,” Bellamy grunts, carefully stepping into his closet and extracting the box from the top of it. “She wanted me to keep it until you got married, I don’t think she trusted you with it.” Octavia swats him as Bellamy sets it down on the bed. He watches as Octavia extracts the white silk from the box and not for the first time, Bellamy finds himself getting choked up. His sister is getting married. “Have—” he clears his throat. “Have you set a date yet?”

Octavia shakes her head. “Nah. We’ve both been really busy at work lately and haven’t had time to talk about much. At least past June,” she says, and Bellamy raises a brow. “I’m moving out of my apartment and we have to wait until our leases are up.”

“What about Raven?”

Octavia grins a bit. “She won’t say it out loud, but I think she and Zeke are actually considering it.”

“Already?”

“I think it’s one of those _when you know you know_ , kinda moments,” Octavia says, as Bellamy hands her a hangar to put the dress on. “Honestly, it’s probably gonna be in December. I’m only twenty-three.”

Bellamy breathes a sigh of relief at her words. More time for him to prepare for his sister getting married. “What do you think?” He asks, gesturing to the dress hanging on the back of his door.

Octavia cocks her head at it, and scans her eyes over it quickly. While she inspects it, he glances around his room looking for Clarke. He has absolutely no idea where she is. “I don’t know. I like it, but—I don’t think it’s what I want. It would be nice to have something of Mom’s on my wedding day but I don’t know if I want to wear her dress.”

Bellamy rummages back around in the box and pulls out a small jewelry box. “Look at those,” he says, handing it to her. Octavia raises a brow before opening it. Earrings slide out. “Something blue,” Bellamy suggests, and Octavia looks like she’s going to _cry_. This is a lot of emotions all of the sudden.

“You’ve kept these?”

“As much as I didn’t want you to get married, I knew you would one day.”

Octavia’s chin quivers for a moment, but then she stops herself. “I’m not going to cry. That’s—that’s not our style.” Bellamy snorts and she looks down at the earrings in her hand. “Thanks, Bell.”

“Course,” he grunts, not trying to show that he’s choked up about this. Octavia stands there for a moment, before looking at him.

“Alright. I gotta go, but whenever Clarke gets home can you tell her I need to talk to her?”

Bellamy manages a nod. “Yeah. Sure.”

Octavia narrows her eyes, “something is going on, and I don’t know what, but I’m going to find out.”

“Nothing’s going on, Octavia,” Bellamy tries, but she still looks suspicious.

“That’s what they all say. You’re still acting very weird.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “I act like this all the time.”

His sister snorts and leaves his room, and Bellamy takes a breath. Jesus. He glances around one more time before following Octavia too the door and saying goodbye. He turns around just as Clarke is poking her head out from his room.

“Good lord,” she grumbles, and Bellamy chuckles. “I was under your bed.”

“Under my bed?” Bellamy says, and Clarke grins sheepishly.

“The closet looked like a bad choice, and the bathroom did too.”

Bellamy grins again and pulls her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. “At least I know you’re good at hide and seek.

“You’re a dork,” she grumbles, but her eyes stare at him fondly. Not for the first time, the words linger on the top of his tongue. But he doesn’t say them. It's too soon.

“Hm, and you’re not?” He says instead, and Clarke pulls away from him. “You hungry?” She nods and together they find something to make for dinner.

* * *

 

As much as Clarke wishes that she could tell her girls about her relationship with Bellamy, she knows she can’t. She wants to shout it from the rooftops, let everyone know that she’s with him and in love with him, but she can’t. She hasn’t even let him know that she’s in love with him.

Wine night comes, and this time the topic is unfortunately relationships. It usually is, but it seems like it’s more of a big deal now that one of them is engaged. They’ve been recounting all of their favorite memories, and Emori has decided that at the wedding she’s going to do a drunken rendition of Octavia’s favorite song.

“I promise, it’s going to be the best wedding speech ever,” Emori says after her third glass of wine. “I’m going to be fantastic.”

Octavia snorts from her spot on the couch. “I can’t wait, oh my _god_. I hope you go viral.”

“I can see it now,” Raven says, as she stares up at the ceiling, “drunk crazy lady ruins best friend’s wedding.”

Emori whacks her with a pillow. “Hey! I’m not going to ruin her wedding.”

“You better not ruin my wedding,” Octavia says under her breath, and Clarke and Harper snicker. “Okay. I gotta ask you all something. Well, two things. I have an appointment to go look at dresses at the beginning of February. Do you—”

“Yes,” Harper finishes quickly. “You don’t even have to finish the question, we’re in.”

Octavia grins brightly. “Good. Also, I was wondering,” she starts, her smiling going wider. “Will you all be my bridesmaids?” All of them scream at once, and Clarke’s face is going to split from smiling so hard. “I don’t want a maid of honor, because all of you can’t be my maids of honor, so—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Raven says, giving her roommate a tight hug. “You’re our girl, Tavia. We’re in. We won’t ruin your wedding though, even if Emori tries.” Emori shoves Raven but no one can stop smiling.

They all huddle on the couch together, and they scour the wedding dress website for anything that Octavia would like. She hasn’t found any yet, but it’s the thought that counts. Harper even finds one she likes, even though she claims that she and Monty haven’t talked about it. By the way that she avoids Clarke’s gaze, they have one hundred percent talked about it, and it’s probably going to happen soon enough.

Raven, Emori, and Clarke all find some of the most ridiculous wedding dresses, and say that those are the ones. Octavia only swats at them and keeps moving down the line. Emori says that she doesn’t think Murphy ever wants to get married, and she’s okay with that. “We’re good the way we are,” she shrugs, and Clarke understands.

“I’m chillin,” Raven says, kicking her feet up on the table. “Zeke and I just started dating, we’re not getting married for a while.”

“You see yourself marrying him?” Clarke asks with her brow raised.

Raven flushes a bit, and Clarke smirks. “Well, yeah. It’s weird, we’ve only known each other for a year, and we’ve only been dating a couple weeks but—I just know.” Clarke grins and then Raven raises her brows. “What about you? Any luck with Bellamy?”

Clarke lets out a sigh and settles in to the couch. “Nope,” she lies, “it’s really awkward and weird right now.”

Raven groans. “You two are impossible. If you just fucking fessed up about it—”

“He’s been acting really weird lately,” Octavia offers, her eyes not leaving her laptop screen. “I went over there a couple days ago and it was like he was a deer in the headlights.”

“In what way?” Emori asks, and Clarke slumps into the couch. Fuck, she’s a terrible liar. They’re going to catch her and figure everything out.

Octavia shrugs. “He looked like a little kid who had just been caught doing something he shouldn't have been,” she says, and Clarke picks at her nails. God, it's really hard to pretend to still be pining after Bellamy even though she and Bellamy are actually in a relationship now. Harper’s eyeing her carefully, and it looks like she's about to say something when Octavia nearly knocks over all of their wine glasses. “ _Guys_! Look at this one!”

And the conversation drops, and Clarke is saved. For how much longer, though?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hm, i wonder how much longer they've got until someone finds out.
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clxrkeblxke or twitter @saucybellamy!


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> that's all i gotta say
> 
> also there is smut
> 
> enjoy!

“What are you doing on Friday?”

Clarke pauses as she wipes down the dishes, and looks up. “Wine night. Why?”

“What about Saturday?” He barely looks up from the papers on the table as she turns to him. “I want to go on a date. Like, a nice one. We haven’t done that yet.” It’s been about three weeks that they’ve been together, and they’ve both been so busy that they’ve hardly had time to go on a real date. Bellamy claims that their first official date was the day in the snow, but Clarke doesn’t think it happened until they went to their favorite Chinese place and ate in for once. Either way, it’s been three weeks and a few kind of dates.

The blonde frowns and crosses the kitchen before perching herself on Bellamy’s knee. He presses a kiss to her shoulder and then turns back to his work. “You know I’m just content with staying in and watching a movie. I’m a simple girl.  


Bellamy crosses something out on one of his student’s papers before putting his pen down to look at her. “I know that. But I think it’s about time I took you on a nice date. Y’know, doing it the normal way and all,” he tells her, and Clarke gives him a grin and a kiss. She tries to deepen the kiss, but Bellamy pulls back too quickly.

She’s been trying to get him to crack this last week, but no such luck. He’s solid. But she refuses to crack first, especially if they’re trying to be _normal_. “I’m serious,” he says, when she still hasn’t said anything. “You deserve a nice date.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and curls an arm around his shoulder. “You know I don’t _need_ a nice date.”

Bellamy wraps one of his arms tighter around her waist before giving her another kiss. “I know. But I _want_ to take you on a nice date. C’mon. What do you say?”

Finally, Clarke nods, and his smile goes wide. “Alright. What did you have in mind?”

* * *

 

Saturday night, Clarke finds herself a little nervous. She knows that she shouldn’t be, because it’s just Bellamy and it’s just a date, but she hopes it goes well. She knows deep down that no matter how it goes, they’ll still be fine because her feelings aren’t going anywhere and she gets the same feeling about his.

There’s a knock on her door and Bellamy’s voice drifts in to her. “Hey, I have to run and grab something from my truck. You almost ready?”

“Yeah, just give me two minutes,” Clarke says, hoping to disguise the shaking in her voice. She hears him leave the apartment Clarke runs her hands down her dress anxiously. She looks in the mirror and wants to scold herself. She’s never worried about what she’s looked like going out on a date before. Then again, no one else has ever been Bellamy.

Clarke’s just exiting her room to find her coat when there’s a knock on the front door. She grumbles as she treads to the door, irritation flaring up in her. If one of their friends is outside the door with an emergency, she’s going to scream. Her annoyance fades away when she finds Bellamy on the other side, with a smile on his face and flowers in his hands.

She tips her head to the side and her eyes go between the flowers and him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m picking you up, what does it look like? Isn’t this what normal people do?” Bellamy says with a bright grin, and Clarke can’t stop herself from laughing.

“You’re a dork,” she laughs, pulling him down by his collar to kiss him.

“You love it,” Bellamy replies, and Clarke’s cheeks go pink because yeah, she does love it. If only he knew how much she loves it. He hands her the flowers carefully before they both turn back into their apartment. “Wow, nice place you got here.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and searches in their cabinets for a vase. “Are you going to do this all night?”

“Maybe,” Bellamy says, but his voice sounds far away as she puts the flowers up. When she turns back to face him, he’s staring like he’s been struck by the sun. “Clarke, you—” He clears his throat and steps closer to her, his large hands circling her waist. “You look incredible. Not that you don’t always look incredible, but—” She laughs and lifts up on her toes to play with his hair. Her cheeks go a bit pink at his compliment, and he smiles at her.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she finally says, and Bellamy laughs before giving her the most gentle kiss. They stand there for a second, before he pulls back with a grin.

“Ready?” Clarke nods and she watches him grab his coat and fuck, he looks good too. Seeing him in that blue button down and slacks is making her want to stay in. But she’s not going to be the one to crack first.

The drive to dinner is quiet, but comfortable. His hand reaches over to tangle his fingers with hers, and she wonders if he can hear her heartbeat. It’s practically beating out of her chest at this point. “Where are we going?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and squeezes his hand, and he only grins. “You’re the worst. Don’t people on normal dates say where they’re going?”

Bellamy pauses, and she knows that she’s got him there. “Yeah, but—fuck. Still. Let me have this one thing.” He’s fighting a smile as he talks, and Clarke bites at her lip to disguise her own smile.

Clarke laughs, but doesn’t ask again. He hums along with the radio as they go, and she listens fondly. They continue to drive as they talk about their weeks. She wishes that they had more time during the week to talk to one another, but she likes that the weekend is their time. They’re still figuring out how to navigate a relationship, but they’re doing it well. Things are good. And yeah, they’re still in the honeymoon stage, but they’ve worked out all of the problems they’ve come across.

Bellamy pulls to a stop in front of a cute little restaurant that Clarke has only seen in passing. It’s a cozy cottage, but it’s definitely a restaurant. The entire place has a happy feeling to it, and Clarke is glad that Bellamy picked here.

They get out of the car and Bellamy finds her hand again as they walk towards the door. “I’ve never been here,” she tells him. Bellamy holds the door for her before stepping inside.

“This was one of my jobs in college,” he responds. “The owners love me.

Bellamy wasn’t kidding when he said the owners love him. Seconds after they’ve gotten their menus, an older couple comes out and practically descends on Bellamy. They demand a hug and he stands quickly. And then they turn to her, their eyes gleaming. “Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt, this is Clarke,” Bellamy says, and Clarke feels like she’s going to vomit. She holds out her hand to shake, but the older woman quickly gives Clarke a hug. She manages a smile. It feels like this is as close to meeting Bellamy’s parents as she’s going to get.

The woman smiles warmly at her. “Nice to meet you, Clarke. Bellamy, dear, you don’t have to call us that. You know our names. Use them, it’s only polite.”

“It’s—it’s nice to meet you, too,” Clarke responds, looking between Bellamy and the older couple.

“I know your names,” he grumbles, much like a small child would. “It just feels weird to use them.”

The man rolls his eyes and smiles at Clarke. “Jack Schmidt. My wife, Norma. Nice to meet you.”

“Clarke Griffin,” she responds, shaking his hand.

Norma looks at Clarke before turning to Bellamy. “She’s very pretty, Bellamy.”

Bellamy shrugs, his eyes glinting. “Eh, she’s alright.” Clarke frowns and kicks his leg, but Bellamy only laughs.

“Blink twice if he’s tricked you into this,” Jack mutters to Clarke, and now she can’t stop herself from laughing. It’s strange to see adults teasing Bellamy. But she blinks twice anyways, and Jack laughs before clapping Bellamy on the shoulder. “I like her, don’t go messing this one up.”

“I don’t plan to,” Bellamy promises, looking Clarke in the eye. Her heart soars. “She’s stuck with me.” Jack and Norma Schmidt talk for another minute before bidding them goodbye and goodnight, and they tell Clarke to try the chocolate cake and she promises she will.

Bellamy looks strangely nervous as she turns back to him. “You weren’t kidding when you said they knew you.”

“I worked here during college,” he says, elaborating on his story. “It was right after Mom died and Octavia and I were broke and I was working three jobs trying to keep us up. They helped a lot. We got a lot of free spaghetti. They’re good people. They know me and what’s been going on in my life. But Jack only remembers me as the troublemaker I was when I first started working here.”

Clarke laughs, opening up her menu. “That must explain why he thought you were holding me hostage.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes, “you’re the only person I’ve brought here, besides O. Only girlfriend.”

She raises a brow. “Yeah?”

He nods, grinning at her. “I was saving it for you.”

“You are the biggest fucking cheesewad in the entire world,” Clarke teases, “such a romantic.”

And then he rolls his eyes again, opening up his own menu even though she’s sure he gets the same thing every time. “Only for you.” 

* * *

 

Halfway through dinner, Bellamy decides that he’s the luckiest guy in the world.

There isn’t really a defining moment when it strikes him. It creeps up on him as he watches her talk enthusiastically with her hands about something that happened at work this week. As she twirls her fork into her spoon to get the spaghetti in the right place. As she goes to take a sip of her wine, but then decides that she wants to tell another story.

He always knew that Clarke was something special, but now that he’s sitting here with her, it’s becoming increasingly obvious. For the longest time, she was just a person on the outskirts of his life. She was Octavia’s annoying, bossy, rich blonde friend. He hates that it took him so long to realize that she’s anything but. Okay, she still is bossy, but Bellamy doesn’t mind it anymore. It’s one of those traits that she has that he’s learned to love.

No longer on the outskirts, Clarke is now perhaps the most important person in his life. One of the few things in this world that truly make him smile, truly make him happy. His friends are in that category, as is his sister but Clarke… Clarke is on a level of her own. It’s funny, he supposes, how quickly things change between two people. A year and a half ago he didn’t want to be in the same room as her, and now all he wants to do is spend as much time as possible with her.

“…and then Jackson looks at me and—why are you looking at me like that?” Clarke’s voice jogs his thoughts and he manages to focus on her words.

“Looking at you like what?”

Clarke rolls her eyes and actually takes a sip of her wine this time. “Like, like that!”

“Like what!” Bellamy says, trying to keep the smile off of his face.

His girlfriend narrows her eyes at him. “You’re acting funny.”

“Who says I’m not always like this?” Bellamy covers, taking a bite of his lasagna. “Alright, what did Jackson do after he looked at you?”

Clarke’s eyes are still narrowed and she still looks suspicious, but she tells him how she and Jackson were assigned to a case this past week. “Mom was supervising this week, and we knew that we had to be on our best behavior, but this patient’s name was so funny, every time we looked at each other we’d start laughing and I’m fairly certain we both nearly lost our jobs.”

Bellamy grins as she laughs about it. “Did your mom say anything to you?”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Nah. She just gave me _the look_ and I had to excuse myself. I think she’s still being cautious around me because of the accident, even though I feel better now.” He’s incredibly glad to hear that. Sometimes she’s still gets anxious getting in the front seat of a car, but she’s healed up alright and there weren’t any complications, so he’s satisfied.

“Does she still think that I should drive you around everywhere?” Bellamy asks, and Clarke snorts.

“I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t put it past her to actually try and get in contact with you,” Clarke says, and Bellamy grins. “Also, that reminds me. Do you,” she pauses and he raises a brow. “My mom invited me for dinner at the end of the month. Do you want to come with me?”

“Does she know we’re together?”

Clarke’s cheeks go a little pink and god, she is beautiful. “I—She thought we were dating when I got into the accident. She asked me how long we had been together on Christmas.”

Bellamy raises his brows. “Clarke, she asked me the same thing.”

Her cheeks go even pinker. “I know. She told me that, too. I was so mad at her, but I think she knew what she was doing because the next day we started dating.” Bellamy laughs and Clarke smiles a bit.

“What day did your mom invite you over?”

“The 30th.”

Bellamy nods, “alright, yeah. I’ll go. Is she gonna ask me questions?”

Clarke laughs as he nudges her foot with his. “It’ll probably be Marcus asking most of the questions. I hope you can handle it.”

“I can handle anything,” Bellamy states, and Clarke smiles again. “Alright. So the real question of the night is are we going to order chocolate cake or not?”

Clarke laughs and nods. “Of course we’re ordering the chocolate cake, we’re not heathens, Bellamy.”

So they order the chocolate cake, and she somehow gets cake on her nose, and all that Bellamy can think is that he’s so in love with her. Everything she does sends him into cardiac arrest because everything she does is so _Clarke_ that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He wants to tell the entire world that he loves her, and the way that this is going, that might happen tonight.

* * *

 

Clarke’s fingers are linked with Bellamy’s as they make their way up the stairs to their apartment. Even if it was just dinner, she’s had such a fun night. She’s so glad she agreed to this. They pull to a stop outside of the door. “So,” Bellamy says, and Clarke raises her brows.

“So?”

He slips his hands into his pockets and gives her a grin. “Isn’t this where normal dates end?”

“Bellamy, you live here.” He smirks a bit and she groans teasingly, “can you cut the normal charade? Nothing about our relationship is normal, and I want to go to bed.”

Bellamy raises his brows. “You want to go to bed?”

Clarke nods, looking for her keys in her pockets. “Yes, I want to go to—” but then his lips are on hers and she can’t think straight. She can’t even remember what she was looking for. His hands grip at her waist tightly and her arms slide around the back of his neck.

He pulls back and Clarke is short of breath and her head is spinning. “Let’s go to bed, hm?” His voice is husky and deep and _fuck_.

It takes her a second, but then she gets it. Her entire body runs hot at the thought of finally— “You cracked first! _Hah_!”

Bellamy rolls his eyes and dips down to kiss her again, making her body go warmer. “Fuck, Clarke. You’ve been driving me _insane_. I just want to have sex with you, I don’t care anymore, three weeks was long enough to wait.”

Clarke whoops loudly as he hardly lets go of her to open the door. “I knew you would crack first!”

“Oh, please,” Bellamy grumbles, finally getting the door open. “Like you haven’t been trying to seduce me for three weeks.”

“Did it work?” Clarke asks as Bellamy shuts the door behind them. Then, his lips are back on hers and her fingers are in his hair.

“Yes,” Bellamy finally grunts, his eyes darker than normal. “Yes, it worked, Clarke. It worked very well.”

Clarke laughs as he hoists her up into his arms and carries her to his room. His upper body strength is incredible and she wonders what other strengths he has. Clarke’s body goes even warmer when she realizes that she’s soon going to find out. Bellamy gives her a kiss before dropping her lightly onto his bed. He hovers over her for a moment and Clarke smiles at him fondly. “Hey. I had a lot of fun tonight.”

He looks at her, a smile blossoming across his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I did. Who knew you’d be such a good boyfriend?”

Now Bellamy laughs before leaning down to kiss her again. “I did,” he replies, pulling back for second. “We were both just too stupid to do anything about it.”

“I mean, at least we finally did something,” Clarke says, and Bellamy grins at her.

“Yeah, and now I’d like to do something else.”

“Who knew the only time you’d be good at flirting was right before sex?”

Bellamy snorts again and leans down closer to her, only a breath away. “Yeah, this is just my way to get you into bed, I’ll revert back to my shitty flirting as soon as it’s over.”

Clarke laughs loudly before pulling him down to kiss her. Bellamy hovers over her, his weight pressing her further into the mattress. Her hands don’t know where to settle, she wants to touch all of him, to feel the hard panes of his body. Bellamy seems to be having a similar problem.

Their kisses start out lazy, with roaming hands all over the place. Clarke’s fingers rake over his chest, and she nimbly gets the buttons on his shirt undone. Bellamy obliges quickly, practically yanking the fabric off of himself before diving back down. His mouth trails down her jaw and throat, and Clarke’s giggles from before have been replaced with sharp breaths and quiet mews of pleasure. She makes the noise that she made a few weeks ago, and Bellamy’s eyes fill with something that she can’t place, but she likes the look of it.

His hands grip at her waist tightly, bunching the fabric of her dress into his hands. “How about we take this off, yeah?” Clarke nods quickly before sitting up, but her head bonks into Bellamy’s. He squeezes his eyes shut and Clarke immediately puts his hands on his face to check to see if he’s okay. Fuck, she’s gonna ruin everything.

“Shit, Bellamy, I’m sorry—” Her head hurts too, but she’s more concerned about him.

Bellamy only laughs a little, rubbing his head before turning back to her with a kiss. “I’m good. I assume this happens.” Clarke bites her lip and Bellamy’s eyes drop to watch the motion. “Clarke, seriously. I’m fine.” She nods again, her hands still rubbing against his skin. She’s worried that the mood has been lost, but she’s not worrying long before Bellamy drags her into his lap to kiss her again. His hands travel around her back, finally finding the zipper. He grins into their kiss before slowly sliding it down.

“Y’know, as much I love this dress,” Bellamy says as he lifts it over her head. “I quite like what’s under it, too.”

Clarke’s a little breathless from his kisses so it takes her a moment to think of a response. “You’re a suave motherfucker, Bellamy.” He laughs and she’s about to kiss him again when she pauses. “I gotta take my shoes off.”

Bellamy snorts as she kicks her boots off, and one of them flies out into the hallway with a thunk. They both collapse into laughter for a moment, and the happiness in Bellamy’s eyes is unmistakable. He gets up quickly to shut the door and then grins a little at her. Bellamy lays her back down on his bed before his eyes search her skin. She can’t help but feel a little self-conscious as his eyes roam over her body.

His fingers skim on her stomach and she can’t stop herself from shivering. “You’re incredible,” Bellamy finally concludes, and she flushes. “Jesus Christ, I am the luckiest man in the entire world.”

Well if _that_ doesn’t get her going.

It’s like there’s a renewed fire in her after his comment. Clarke pulls him back down to kiss him and he responds eagerly, his lips sliding over hers. Her hands grip at his waistband and he groans from deep within his throat. Warmth pools in Clarke’s belly as Bellamy’s mouth travels further down her jaw and neck. Everything about this is so familiar, but so foreign at the same time that Clarke doesn’t know how she’s going to get through this.

Bellamy sucks along the top of her bra and she rubs her thighs together, desperately trying to find something to grind onto. “Bell,” Clarke pants, her hands sliding up his chest and locking on his shoulders. “Can you—” Her breath hitches again as his hands circle her waist.

“Can I what?” He murmurs back, his breath hot on her breasts.

“Can you,” her face flushes and Bellamy pauses, cocking a brow at her. “Can you eat me out?”

Bellamy grins wickedly, before leaning back up to capture her lips in a searing kiss. “Do you want me to eat you out?”

She nods rapidly as his fingers twitch on the top of her panties. “Only if you want to.”

“Fuck. _Fuck_ , yeah, I want to,” Bellamy says quickly, kissing down her neck again to get back to her breasts. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited to get my hands on you?” Clarke laughs breathily, and he kisses her again before settling back down by her breasts.

“Bellamy that is _not_ my—” She starts, groaning a bit when his head isn’t where she wants it.

But he only smirks, running his fingers soothingly on her hips. “God, you’re bossy,” Clarke sinks a little into his bed and he grins at her again. “Don’t worry, it’s hot.”

“ _You’re_ hot,” she teases, arching her back as Bellamy unhooks her bra. He laughs against her body, but his laughter dies in his throat as he gets a good look at her.

“Fuck, you have the best tits, Clarke.”

“Yeah, I’m proud of them,” she teases, and Bellamy smirks before diving back down to her chest. His mouth suckles along the soft skin of her breasts and Clarke moans at even the softest touch. She’s wanted this for _so long_. Bellamy’s body settles in the cradle of her hips for a moment, and Clarke can feel his growing arousal pressing against her thigh. Her eyes almost roll into the back of her head, and she only squeezes her thighs together more.

Bellamy notices and grins wolfishly at her before finally swirling his tongue around her sensitive nipple. Clarke gasps, her hands immediately going into his hair. He squeezes at the other one while his mouth sucks along. She makes that noise and Bellamy only moves faster, and the need for him only grows stronger. He blows on her wet nipple and the sensation makes her gasp sharply.

“Bellamy,” Clarke groans when he only switches his ministrations to the other breast. She needs his hands on her body, his tongue on her cunt. “I need—"

“What do you need?”

“I—” she can’t get the words out, everything is overlapping and all she can think is _Bellamy_. “I need your hands. I love your hands, Bellamy.”

“I thought you wanted me to eat you out?” He teases, his voice deep and it’s only turning her on more.

“Both,” Clarke manages to push out, “definitely both, please.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs to her, and the praise goes straight to her pussy. Bellamy grins again before finally sliding down her body, his mouth dragging along her stomach. Clarke’s breaths are tight and short and she’s so worked up she doesn’t know what she’s going to do when he gets down there.

He presses kisses down Clarke’s stomach, and pauses at the scar from her surgery. Bellamy stares at it for a moment, his jaw working, before running his thumb over the raised skin. “I’m okay, Bell,” she says softly, and his eyes meet hers. “I’m good.”

Bellamy nods slowly, before pressing a soft kiss to her skin. But then it’s back to business, and his hands are teasing the waistline of her panties. Clarke’s hips buck and Bellamy presses them down. “Be patient.”

“I am the furthest thing from patient,” Clarke moans softly as Bellamy hooks his fingers around her panties and pulls them down. He stares at her for a moment, his mouth dropped in awe. It’s like she’s the first naked woman he’s ever seen.

“You are incredible,” he tells her with a grin, and she clenches down on nothing. “Scoot up, will you?” Clarke nods quickly and manages to pull her shaking body closer to his headboard. His eyes darken as he takes in everything he’s seeing. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

“Bellamy,” she says, shifting her legs again. “I swear to God if you don’t—”

She can’t say anything else because then his hands are on her and she’s never felt anything better than this. Bellamy slips a finger across her folds, dragging it from her cunt to her clit, and her hips buck again. He groans as she groans before wetting his fingers and sliding them across her slickness. They explore her labia, getting her used to the feeling of his rough, large fingers. She dreams about his hands so often it’s a goddamn miracle that she hasn’t lost her mind already.

He coats his fingers in her arousal and she’s panting again, whining for his touch. Clarke lets out a sharp gasp when he presses one in slowly, and her hands grapple at his sheets looking for something to hold on to. She gets used to the stretch of his finger so quickly, despite the fact that it’s been so long. He slips another digit inside and her eyes nearly roll into the back of her head.

Bellamy leans up to kiss her, and she licks into his mouth desperately, and he groans deeply, sucking on her bottom lip. “Gonna be the goddamn death of me.”

Clarke bucks against his hand and Bellamy hisses, his lips mouthing on her throat. His thumb presses against her clit and she gasps at every move of his hand. Bellamy’s fingers crook up in just the right way, reaching a spot that she can never reach on her own. She’s tried, but his fingers are longer, thicker, _better_ , and nothing is ever going to compare to them anymore.

“There,” she gasps, the end of the word falling into a moan. The way he fucks into her with his fingers makes her entire body feel like jelly, his fingers feel so good inside of her. She grinds onto his fingers and Bellamy lets out a low groan, his own hips shifting a bit as he finger fucks her. “Fuck, Bellamy—oh, _god_.” His lips detach from hers and she doesn’t even care. Her head is thrown back in pleasure and all she can think is that _this is happening._

His thumb presses harder down onto her clit, rubbing in quick little circles and it makes everything nearly go white, but then he pulls back. “What—”

Clarke doesn’t have any time to finish her question before his mouth is pressing hot kisses to her inner thighs. Oh, Jesus. Her hands tangle tightly in his hair, and she tries to urge him towards her pussy, but he’s not having it. “Patience is a virtue—” he starts to say, and Clarke can’t help but laugh. Bellamy grins against her thigh before looking back up at her. “You good?”

“I’m great, Bellamy,” she breathes out, and he gives her a quick nod before turning back to in between her legs. On top of being the most turned on she’s ever been in her life, she’s the happiest she’s been in her life. “I’d be even better if you’d—"

Clarke throws her head back in pleasure as Bellamy licks at her folds, and she lets out a shaky moan as he puts pressure on her clit. She’s embarrassingly wet, but it’s like it’s the last thing he cares about. He puts his mouth on her like it’s the last time he’s ever going to be able to eat anything, like he’ll never get to do this again.

“You taste so fucking good, Clarke,” Bellamy groans, licking a fat strip from her cunt to her clit. Clarke moans loudly, and that only edges him on.

He sucks along her folds and Clarke whimpers, her hands going back to his hair. She watches through hooded eyes as he ruts into his mattress, and Clarke’s hips buck up, needing more. His tongue spreads her folds and presses against her core, and oh, fuck. “More,” she moans, “Bellamy, more.”

He doesn’t make her wait long before his fingers are back inside of her. Bellamy slips two in without any trouble and Clarke’s moans are almost embarrassing, but he can’t seem to get enough of them. She squirms beneath him. “That feel good, Clarke?”

“Fuck, yes,” she moans, her own hands palming at her breasts. She finds Bellamy’s eyes in the haze and they’ve only gone darker. He crooks his fingers back up in _that_ way, and sucks at her clit lightly.

Her back arches as he runs his tongue over her clit, going between quick, frantic lashes and softer licks. She doesn’t know which she likes more, but his fingers are definitely her favorite. But she needs _more_. “Bellamy, I can’t—”

His fingers curl again, and this time they stay there, running sharply against the spot only he’s found within her. He groans against her pussy, and surprisingly, the vibrations from the noise is what sets her over the edge.

The rush of electricity floods her, and everything goes white. Clarke comes saying his name, her back arched off of the bed. Fireworks explode in her body and causes her to go boneless into his bed. She can feel herself clench down on his fingers as he pulls them out, and she almost whines from the lack of contact. But then his mouth is sucking back against her, taking every drop that she gives him. Clarke rides his face through her orgasm, and then when it’s finally over, she collapses backwards.

Bellamy has a shit-eating grin on his face when he looks at her. “You,” Clarke says breathlessly, “are too good at that.” Her boyfriend snorts and she hauls him up for a kiss. She moans into his mouth when she tastes herself on his tongue.

“And you’re fucking incredible, you god awful woman,” Bellamy groans, his hands still sliding around the smooth skin of her body. The praise zaps her clit with electricity, and she grinds on nothing for a moment. He groans.

Her hands latch onto his waistband and he groans, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.”

Bellamy laughs a bit, and it looks like he can’t find it within him to argue when she pushes him backward. She’s still a little sensitive from the fucking amazing orgasm he just gave her, so she needs a few seconds to work herself back up. Fortunately, he’s got just the thing.

He kicks his shoes off quickly and Clarke rakes her hands down his chest before catching them in his waistband. “Fuck, baby. You don’t have to—”

“Maybe I want to,” she hums, and he tosses his head back onto his pillow.

“Yeah, well,” Bellamy responds, strained. “Maybe I want to have sex with you within the next minute.”

“Patience is a virtue…” Clarke repeats, and Bellamy rolls his eyes for a moment. He finally relaxes a bit as her hands slowly unbuckle his belt. “Can I?”

“If you want,” he forces out, his voice a little shaky. Bellamy runs his hand through his hair, making the curls going even wilder, and Clarke is so fond of him. He’s frustratingly attractive, but at least she gets to actually do something about it now. He kicks his pants off after she undoes the zipper and oh, fuck, he’s big.

She’d always known that Bellamy was well-endowed, she could just feel it, but seeing it in front of her is a new level. She can see the outline of his considerable length through his briefs, and she’s almost aching to have him in between her legs again. But she’s dedicated, and there’s no way she’s gonna let them have sex without putting her mouth on his body.

She teases the waistband of his briefs before finally slipping her hand down. Then his briefs are off, and holy fuck, he’s big. She wants him. Bellamy’s hands are instantly in her hair, and she wraps her hand around his length slowly. He’s long and hard and thick and her cunt clenches down on nothing.

“Jesus, Clarke.”

“I haven’t done anything yet,” she murmurs, pumping the base of his shaft. Now Bellamy groans, and she grins smugly. She swirls her tongue around the thick tip of his dick, and Bellamy’s hips jerk up. Her tongue slides on the slit and Bellamy groans in the back of his throat.

Clarke tries her best to take all of him in her mouth, but he’s too big. So what she can’t fit she pumps with her hand. She doesn’t have much experience with sucking dicks, but by the pleased groans he’s making, it sounds like she’s doing something right.

She licks up his shaft and Bellamy groans deeply, his head falling back against the headboard. Clarke hums in laughter and his hips jerk again, but she doesn’t stop. She hollows her cheeks as much as she can to accommodate him, and Bellamy’s hands grip tighter in her hair.

Too soon, he pulls her up to kiss her. “If you keep doing that we’re not going to be having sex right now.”

Clarke laughs a bit, and Bellamy grins into the kiss. They pause for a second, just basking in this moment. “You good?” He whispers, kissing her cheek gently.

“I’m good,” she reassures, kissing his cheek back. “Are you?”

Bellamy nods quickly. “Yeah. I’m good.”

She grins and kisses him again, pleased that he’s happy. His cheeks are a little flushed and his curls are a little sweaty, but she’s so in love with everything about him. “Can we have sex now?”

Bellamy laughs sharply and nods. “Thought you’d never ask.” She feels giddy as he rolls to reach for his nightstand. He rummages around for a moment before extracting a condom, and Clarke suddenly feels nervous. He must see it on her face, because he raises a brow. “Hey. You sure you’re okay?” Clarke nods and chews at her lip. “Clarke.”

“I’m fine,” she promises, glancing back down at his size. “I just—I haven’t had a dick in me in a while. Especially not someone your size,” she admits. Finn’s dick was average, and Roan’s dick was big, but Roan was never inside of her. This feels monumental to her, mostly because it’s Bellamy and it’s finally happening.

Bellamy nods a bit before leaning back over to kiss her gently. “Hey, if you want to stop, we can.”

She shakes her head, tangling her fingers into his hair. “I don’t want to stop. I just wanted to let you know.”

“We’ll go slow at first,” he reassures, and she nods a bit. Then, his eyes fill with mirth. “So what you’re saying is that I win the biggest dick award?”

Clarke laughs loudly and Bellamy grins, kissing her hotly. “I mean, you’re definitely the biggest dick in general,” she says, and Bellamy tweaks her nipples with a laugh. “But Finn—”

Bellamy groans and pulls back. “Please do not talk about Finn as I’m about to put my dick inside of you.”

She snickers again, but her laughter turns into breathy moans as Bellamy works her back up again. It doesn’t take long, as the prospect of finally having sex with him gets closer and closer. He rolls on the condom and glances at her quickly. “You want to be on top?”

It’s tempting. But tonight she wants to feel Bellamy’s weight on top of her, feel everything that she can. It’s their first time and it’s already an emotional night for both of them. She wants to be under him and feel that safety she feels when she’s around him.

“Not tonight,” she finally tells him. She doesn’t know how to articulate what she’s feeling, so she just reaches for him gently. “Maybe another time.”

Bellamy nods with a gentle grin before kissing her slowly. He pushes them both backwards so he’s hovering over her again, much like they were all of those minutes ago when this started. “You good?” He asks again, and Clarke nods, putting her hands on his cheeks to pull him down. She kisses him lazily and he responds eagerly, quickly bracing his arms on either side of her head.

Her body thrums with the anticipation of finally having him inside of her. She aches for him, for the heavy weight of him. She wants to feel him in every inch of her body. He spreads her legs out a little further and runs his thumb down her slit to make sure she’s ready. Bellamy’s pupils are blown wide as he eases into her, and Clarke gasps.

The first stretch of his cock in her pussy has her seeing _stars_. He feels so fucking good. It’s slow going as he presses in inch by inch. She hasn’t had something this size in her vagina ever, so she needs to adjust. But Bellamy’s good, and he doesn’t push it too far until she’s ready. The pleasure of him sliding into her outweighs the slight discomfort, and her hands lock on his shoulders.

“ _Clarke_ ,” Bellamy groans, and her name sounds like a prayer. “You feel so fucking good.” He feels so fucking good. His cock fills her up, and every time she thinks that he can’t go further in, he does. She gasps when he finally gets all the way in, and any form of discomfort she had disappears because she wants him to _move_.

“Bellamy,” she whispers, pulling his head back down to kiss him. “Move.”

He chuckles a bit, kissing her languidly as he thrust lazily in and out of her. Clarke has to remind herself that there’s no need to rush. All of her other sexual partners have always wanted sex to be fast, and rough, and while she has no doubt that Bellamy can do that too, she’s grateful that this time is slow and steady.

Besides, if they’re going to be having sex for a long time, they have forever to do whatever they want to the other.

Bellamy trails his lips up her jaw and finds a spot behind her ear that makes her gasp. He grins against her skin, sucking at it lightly while her fingers slide from his face to his hair. They’re moving at a tantalizing pace, but it’s so good, and it’s the most pleasure she’s felt in years.

She watches his dick disappear into her and if possible, it turns her on more. Her eyes lock with his, and this feels so right. Not just having sex, but having sex _with him_.

Sure, they’re connected physically. But she’s never felt this close to someone emotionally. Ever. It’s different, but it’s a good different. Bellamy must feel it too, the connection between them, because he dips down and kisses her. His tongue slides on her bottom lip and she opens her mouth for him, humming with pleasure as he hits a spot deep inside of her that she’s never felt before.

Neither of them say much at first, because there’s nothing to say that could accurately describe how they feel. She just kisses him with everything she’s got, and he does the same. She’s never felt this intimate with someone, and the idea of intimacy usually scares her, but with Bellamy it’s like every fear she’s ever had is gone.

At some point though, the slow pace is not enough for her. She starts meeting his thrusts, trying to grind into him. Her hips buck with every one of his strokes, and soft noises of pleasure fall from her lips. Bellamy kisses every inch of skin he can reach, her face, her neck, her breasts, but it’s not enough for Clarke. “Bellamy…”

He looks up at her with a brow raised, and she bites down on her lip. “What? You need…” Clarke nods quickly, and he grins wolfishly at her. “Alright.” Bellamy hooks his arms under her ankles and pulls her down.

If they were making love before, now they’re fucking.

He thrusts inside of her quickly, the new angle hitting her deeper and deeper with every thrust. She gasps again, her hands grappling for a hold. “Fuck, Bellamy.”

“Yeah,” he husks, “fuck Bellamy.”

Clarke laughs a bit at his words and Bellamy grins before kissing her hungrily. Her breath comes in pants as Bellamy sucks on her neck. Every time he pulls out of her to press back in, she finds herself wanting more, wanting him deeper. So she grinds into one of his thrusts, and he groans, his eyes flashing with lust.

Bellamy hits her deep and Clarke’s back arches off of the bed. “Fuck, you look so good, Clarke.” The praise shoots downward and she whimpers.

He pounds into her and she moans, her body desperate for every feeling that he can give her. Everything about him is turning her on, and she wants _more_. “Keep talking,” she forces out, and Bellamy grins a little bit.

“Do you like it when I talk to you?” Clarke nods quickly, rolling her hips into his and he pulls all the way out before pressing back into her. She’s seeing white.

“Yes,” she moans, “fuck, I love your voice, Bellamy.”

Bellamy hands grip her hips harder and he hammers into her. “You know what I love? Your face, _fuck_ , your tits, everything,” he grunts. Clarke pants with exertion, but she’s not a quitter. His words are making her hot all over, she never wants him to stop talking. But it’s clear that they’re both chasing a release at this point, and she _needs_ to come.

Bellamy leans down to kiss her, dragging his thumb against her clit, and Clarke moans into his mouth. “Fuck, I love you _so much_ ,” she gasps, and his eyes are full of lust and something else she can’t place.

She’s so close, she can feel her walls fluttering, but she needs more. “Bellamy I need—” He tilts his hips one last time and Clarke cries out sharply in ecstasy as he continues to hit her at that angle. Their skin slaps together and it sounds absolutely scandalous, but it only spurs Clarke on more. Bellamy kisses her and rubs at her clit in tight circles, and that about does it. “I’m, I’m gonna—oh—!”

And she does. Waves of ecstasy and release flow through her like a rushing river. She feels it in the tips of her toes and her fingers as Bellamy continues to thrust into her, chasing his own release. Clarke lets out a loud sound of pleasure as he fucks her through her orgasm, and when she kisses him, he lets go with a groan of her name.

They collapse on the bed together, with Bellamy still inside of her. She doesn’t want him to ever pull out, because she doesn’t want this to end. She’s still buzzing from her orgasm, but her hands curl through his sweaty hair as he catches his breath.

He finally goes to pull out and she moans softly at the loss of his cock inside of her. Bellamy quickly disposes of the condom, and grabs a washcloth to clean themselves up. Clarke still lies boneless on his bed, and she doesn’t think she’s ever going to get over the feeling.

He’s just laid down next to her when he laughs, settling his arm across her waist. “Did you really tell me you loved me during sex?”

She blinks a few times, still coming down from her high and then she feels her entire body flush. Because she _did_ tell him that she loved him during sex. “You’re bullying me,” she concludes, trying to squirm away from him. “You’ve been bullying me for years I need an adult.”

Bellamy laughs, tightening his grip on her body, pulling her so she’s settled into his side. He presses featherlight kisses to her bare, flushed skin. “Come on, that’s not bullying.”

“You’re being mean,” she says, her heart pounding out of her chest. She didn’t mean to say it. It just… slipped out. She hasn’t even been planning to say it soon. Is it too soon?

Bellamy’s eyes find hers and he grins goofily, poking her sides lightly. “You said it, you can’t take it back now,” he hums, pressing his lips to her temple.

Then she huffs, and turns to look at him. His thumb rubs in circles on her hip and she stares. In this moment, he looks thrilled. His face is still flushed, and his curls are sticking to his head, but he’s smiling. He also looks nervous. Which in turn makes her nervous. “I—” Clarke starts, running her hand gently through his hair. His eyes close at her touch and he leans into her hand. “Yeah. I do. I love you. I’m in love with you,” she clarifies and his eyes jerk up. There. She said it. It’s out in the open and she never has to hide it again.

Bellamy’s laughing again, peppering sloppy kisses across her face and it makes her laugh, too. Finally, she gets ahold of his chin and keeps his mouth by hers. They stay in that moment, that bubble, for a second, lazily kissing without any urgency. He just makes her feel very warm, and very happy. And she’s in love with him. It’s as simple as that.

He pulls back abruptly and stares down at her in some sort of awe. “Did you know that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me?” Clarke thinks her heart stops for a second. “I’m serious,” Bellamy says when Clarke looks shocked. “I don’t even know where I’d be without you. It’s just—you’re you and I’m me, and it, it just works.”

She chews at her lip and absentmindedly runs her fingers across his chest. “You’re a sap,” she whispers, but her heart is beating out of her chest. She suddenly feels very nervous about his lack of response from her admission. Is it too early?

But then he chuckles again, pulling her face forward to kiss her once more. “I’m only a sap,” he says in between their lips, “because I’m so in love with you I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Clarke pulls back quickly and stares at him, only to find a grin the side of the universe plastered on his face. “Really?” She whispers, and he nods.

“Really.”

And then she smiles, launching herself further into her arms despite her tired bones and body. Bellamy laughs, pressing a kiss to her cheek. After all this time, they mean the same thing to one another. “I love you, Bellamy.”

Her boyfriend smiles, and their noses bump together as they get close to one another. “I love you too, Clarke.”

She could hear that for the rest of her life and never get tired of it.

They lounge in Bellamy’s bed for a little longer, until she finally has enough energy to get up. He immediately groans at her movement, and his hands reach out for her. “Where’re you going?”

“Well, I mean,” Clarke says, as she searches for her panties, “if we’re trying to be a normal couple—” Bellamy groans and stands up himself, reaching for his briefs.

“I think we passed normal a long time ago, Clarke,” Bellamy tells her standing up and moving to his dresser. He tosses her one of his t-shirts and she catches it with a small grin. “Just stay,” he murmurs after she’s put the blue t-shirt on. “Just stay here tonight, and tomorrow can figure it out. I dunno about you, but I’m so tired of saying goodnight and going to different rooms.”

She is tired of doing that. While she refused to crack on the sex thing, she was so close to cracking on the sleeping in different rooms thing. She just wants to wake up with him every morning, and it would probably be a huge boost to her attitude. She’d steal the covers all the time and he’d grumble about it but instead just snuggle closer.

Bellamy raises a brow at her and waits patiently, and she nods. His grin is so bright it lights up his dim room. “Can I brush my teeth first?” Bellamy laughs and nods, reaching over to open the door for her.

He glances at the hallway and his eyes lighten. “Don’t forget your boot,” he says, and Clarke snickers a bit, reaching down to grab the boot that she yanked off earlier.

Clarke brushes her teeth at lightning speed and revels in the feeling of knowing that she and Bellamy just had sex. She’ll feel it tomorrow morning, but she wants to feel it forever. She’s giddy at the thought that she can kiss him whenever she wants, and tell him she loves him whenever she wants. _God_.

She crawls back into his bed and Bellamy follows, quickly covering her face in kisses. She giggles once and finally just kisses him, but they’re both smiling so much it can hardly be called a kiss. “Letting you move in was such a good decision,” Bellamy mutters. Clarke laughs brightly and he buries his smile into her hair. She’s deliriously happy.

Maybe Octavia practically forcing them to move in together was a good decision.

* * *

 

The bar that their friends chose is close enough for them to walk to, even if it’s a little cold. Clarke doesn’t mind. She gets to slip into Bellamy’s side and feel warm all over. She doesn’t think that Bellamy minds much.

He tells her a story about what his students did earlier that day as they walk down the street, and Clarke listens intently. She’s so fond of him and so in love with him it’s kind of ridiculous at this point. When they pull to a stop at a crosswalk, she can’t help herself from pulling him down for a kiss.

Bellamy laughs into her mouth but obliges, kissing her gently for a moment. He kisses her cheek and pulls back, smiling widely at her. Clarke smiles, “you know I love you?”

Her boyfriend nods, and dips to kiss her again before the crosswalk sign turns on. “You’re a dork. I love you, too.”

Clarke hums in contentment as they cross the street. Something’s been nagging at her though, in the back of her mind for days. “Bellamy?”

“Hm?”

“Should we tell our friends?”

He’s quiet for a moment as they walk, obviously mulling it over himself. “Do you want to tell our friends?”

Clarke shrugs, knowing that now is her moment to say what she has to. “I dunno. I feel bad for lying to them, but I’m worried as soon as we say something they might try to get involved, and I don’t want that.” Bellamy nods as she word vomits everything that she’s been thinking the last few days. “And they’re our friends, and I know that they would be happy for us, but sometimes I like it being just us. And it’s been a month and a half and we still haven’t said anything.”

Bellamy nods again and then tugs her under an overhang of a store that’s closed for the night. They’re close enough to the bar that he looks over her shoulders to make sure that their friends aren’t outside. “I like it being us too, Clarke,” he tells her, “but I hate lying to them. I think Murphy suspects something but if he does he won’t bring it up.”

“Murphy knows everything, though, so—” Clarke mumbles, and Bellamy grins a bit, sliding one of his hands around her hip. She chews on her lip and then makes her decision. “I wanna tell them. Not tonight, obviously, but soon. We’re happy, Bellamy, and I want them to know that. We are happy, right?”

Bellamy rolls his eyes a bit and tips her chin up to kiss her again. “Well, you’re literally the love of my life so yeah, I’d say I’m pretty happy.”

“Sap,” Clarke whispers, but her heart warms in her chest.

“You love it,” Bellamy replies, pulling back to press his lips to her forehead. “What about next week? We just say it and then watch absolute chaos commence.”

She smiles a bit, wrapping him in a hug. “I bet Jasper faints,” Bellamy snorts, “but I’m good with that. If you are?”

Clarke pulls back from his embrace and nods. “I am. Ready to fool them one more time?”

Bellamy grins a bit and tips his head. “I hate not being able to touch you,” he grumbles and Clarke laughs as the bar comes into sight. “I can’t even look at you without someone saying something. Last time we did something with everyone it was Murphy. He asked me why I was giving you _fuck me_ eyes. I mean, I probably was but—”

She chortles and detaches herself from his arm as they pass in front of the windows. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to give you those eyes tonight. We can throw them off of the scent.” Bellamy groans when she winks, and Clarke smirks. He slaps her behind lightly as they walk in the door, and he’s lucky that their friends are in the back corner.

They do really well for the first hour of the night. They have their usual amount of interaction with each other, and then spend time with their respective people. Clarke and Raven attempt to kill each other at darts and Raven spends several minutes talking about how Clarke needs to get on Bellamy’s dick. It takes everything in her not to tell her that she’s already on his dick. Actually, she’s on his dick quite often. Besides the point.

It's not until Bellamy, Miller, and Murphy start a game of pool that Bellamy almost slips up and says something he’s not supposed to. “Clarke, ba—” But then he stops abruptly and Clarke’s brows shoot off of her face. He was about to call her baby, and as much as she loves when he does that, now is not the place. “Pool,” he finally says, and Murphy is looking between them suspiciously. “You’re good at pool.”

“I am,” Clarke responds, her brows pulled together, “so let me kick your ass.”

And then Clarke almost slips up, too. She’s just finished kicking Bellamy’s ass at pool when he offers to get her another drink. “Yeah,” she says, turning to him. “That’d be great.” And then she almost leans up to kiss him. Bellamy only leans back further, with an alarmed look in his eyes. Clarke realizes her mistake and immediately pulls back, before shoving her glass into his hands. “Yeah, yeah just—I’m gonna—”

She nearly runs back to Raven and Emori, and Miller narrows his eyes at the two of them. A few minutes later, Bellamy places a beer on the table in front of her before quirking his brows up. He sits on the other side of the table, much to her disappointment. But they’ve already been close to blowing their cover tonight, and obviously neither of them want to risk it.

But it would be fun to tease him before heading home.

Miller and Murphy both watch them carefully throughout the rest of the night, and Clarke desperately tries to remember how they acted around each other before they started dating. It’s nearly impossible, because it all feels the same, except with kissing. So she’s not really sure _how_ to interact with him.

By the time the night is over, she thinks she’s going crazy from lack of contact with Bellamy. Usually he’ll brush a hand over her shoulder, or squeeze her waist if no one’s looking. But tonight they’ve both been so cautious that there’s hardly been anything.

It’s late, and she’s severely regretting suggesting to walk to the bar, because all she wants to do is get home and drag him into bed to make up for the night. It’s clear that he’s feeling the same way as they walk back with Miller and Jackson, who live in the apartment complex down the street from theirs.

His hand keeps brushing against hers and even that touch is sending a jolt through her body. But they can’t do anything about it yet because Miller still looks suspicious and they are not blowing this tonight.

As soon as Miller and Jackson are inside and the two of them are out of sight, Clarke crashes her lips against his. Bellamy chuckles but wraps his arms tightly around her back, pulling her against him. “Jesus, this was the longest night of my life,” he groans, pulling back for a moment.

“Tell me about it,” Clarke replies, unwilling to let him go very far. “Raven kept telling me to get on your dick and now all I want to do is get on your dick.”

Bellamy’s eyes go a bit darker at her words, and he pulls her in for a messy kiss. “Well, let’s get home and get you on my dick.”

Clarke laughs and he teases her with a kiss on her throat. She doesn’t remember much of the walk home. Bellamy is too busy keying her up and teasing her that all she can think about is getting through the door.

They’re a laughing mess as they pull their coats off and kick their shoes to the side. Clarke stumbles over her feet in the hallway and Bellamy laughs before hoisting her up on his back. She shrieks with happy laughter and presses quick kisses to his column of his neck.

Bellamy tosses her on his bed lightly before crawling to meet her halfway. “Love you so much,” Bellamy murmurs as he kisses down her throat, and Clarke smiles brightly.

“Love you too, Bell,” she tells him, and he grins. Bellamy practically rips her clothes off and Clarke gets his shirt and pants off in record speed. She swears lightly as his fingers part her and she moans loudly when he slips his fingers inside.

She comes not once, but twice on his fingers, and she’s worried she’s ripped his sheets from gripping them so tightly. She’s floating, that feeling of delirious happiness seeping back into her as Bellamy rolls the condom on. He carefully slides in and Clarke gasps with pleasure, and she reaches for his hand to tangle their fingers together.

His eyes are blown and his hair is curling around his forehead like it does when they have sex. He presses a hot kiss to the side of her breast and she gasps again as his lips leave a burning trail up her neck. “Clarke,” he breathes, and she moans again. Bellamy picks up his pace and Clarke cants her hips in just the right direction.

Bellamy comes before her this time, and Clarke follows at the feeling of him inside of her. A few minutes and a few sweet, slow kisses later, Bellamy pulls back to throw away the condom.

Clarke reaches for him as he crawls back into bed. “Mm,” she hums, nearly already asleep, “love you.”

Bellamy presses a faint kiss to her forehead, and holds her close.

* * *

 

Bellamy’s making coffee the next morning when Murphy shows up out of the blue. Bellamy raises a brow but opens the door, staring at his friend.

“You realize it’s,” Bellamy looks over at the microwave clock, “nine o’clock on a Saturday morning? You don’t get out of bed till at least eleven.”

Murphy waves him off, “I need help with some stuff for work. We got new equipment and the shipping company sucks ass and dropped it off at the post office instead of the restaurant. You’re the only one with a truck, so if I’m going down you’re going down with me.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes as Murphy digs in the fridge for something to eat. He’s about to respond when he hears Clarke’s voice coming from the back of the apartment. He frantically tries to think of a way to get her to stay back there, but it’s too late, the damage has already been done.

“Bellamy? Have you seen my—?” And then she stops when she sees Murphy. His brows are already high on his forehead, taking in the sight in front of him. Clarke is wearing the sweater Bellamy wore the night before and a pair of his socks. Her hair is piled on top of her head, and it’s _very_ clear where she’s coming from. Bellamy hardly has any time to think of an excuse before Murphy whoops loudly.

“ _I fucking knew it_!” Clarke’s face goes a brilliant shade of pink and Bellamy can’t help but think that despite the situation she looks adorable. Forget the fact that their secret just got out, he loves when she wears his clothes. “I knew there was no way you were just _happy_ , you’re a cynical asshole!” Murphy says, pointing at Bellamy.

“Guilty,” he responds, looking between his girlfriend and his friend.

Murphy whoops again, turning to Clarke. But then he frowns. “How long?”

Clarke turns to Bellamy and raises a brow. He quickly calculates out the numbers, thinking back to when they first got together. “Uh,” he starts, straining to think this early in the morning. “About a month and a half?”

The blonde nods, finally venturing more into the kitchen. The sweater that she’s pulled on covers most of her, but it doesn’t stop his eyes from darting to her bare legs. It’s unfortunate that Murphy is here, as he was planning on staying in bed most of the day. “A month and a half?” Murphy asks, crossing his arms. “I need an exact date.”

“Um,” Clarke stutters, grabbing her mug from around Bellamy. “Day after Christmas, unofficially?”

Bellamy shrugs, not caring about the official or unofficial stuff. “As far as I’m concerned the day we started dating was the day I tricked you into kissing me, so—yeah, day after Christmas. So about a month and a half.” He was so caught up in Clarke that dates haven’t really mattered until now.

“26th, for whatever reason you need to know,” Clarke tells Murphy, resting against the counter next to Bellamy. She leans into his side and he grins happily. It’s been nice being able to keep their relationship to themselves, but it’s been so difficult to keep his hands to himself. Especially when he knows he can kiss and touch her all he wants when they’re alone.

Murphy pauses for a moment, before reaching into his pocket and looking for something. “I need the damn spreadsheet.”

“The spreadsheet?” Bellamy asks, but Murphy waves him off and continues searching for something in his phone. Clarke only shrugs and sips at her coffee, unconcerned.

Murphy’s eyes narrow for a moment before he whoops again. “I won the bet.”

Clarke chokes on her coffee for a moment, and Bellamy splutters. “Bet?” She manages, and Bellamy stares at his friend.

Murphy grins smugly. “See, we made a bet. Me and Reyes and Green and pretty much everyone. The bet was on when you two would get your shit together and get together.”

“And you won?” Clarke asks and Murphy looks in their fridge for the orange juice.

“Oh, of course I did. I’ve seen this shit coming for like, three years. We didn’t make the bet until like August, there’s a whole spreadsheet on it, but—I knew this idiot was in love with you in like July, so obviously I was going to win,” he says, gesturing to Bellamy.

Bellamy scoffs and Clarke raises her brows. “I was not in love with you in July,” he tries to say, but Murphy snorts.

“Yeah, you say that, but we all know the truth.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes again and Clarke snickers and continues sipping at her coffee. “I’m gonna need a copy of this spreadsheet,” she says, and Murphy chuckles a bit. “This is actually really funny.”

“Glad you think so,” he says, looking between the two of them. “God, no wonder you two were late for everything.” Clarke laughs, and her cheeks go pink again.

“That was never my fault,” Bellamy says, and Clarke instantly protests.

“Yeah, okay. You were the whole reason that we were late to everything. I have never done anything to make us late,” she teases, and Murphy watches the exchange careful.

“Jesus, you two are disgusting. Smile,” he says, holding up his phone. Murphy snaps a quick picture, and Bellamy’s phone buzzes. Clarke leans over to read the text.

Murphy has sent the picture of them to their entire friend group with the caption: cough up you fuckers Clarke and Bellamy are fucking

“We are doing more than just fucking, Murphy,” she says, throwing a napkin at him. Murphy dodges it with a cackle as more texts come in.

 **Jasper** : WHAT SINCE WHEN

 **Murphy** : Since December 26th

 **Monty:** someone check the spreadsheet stat

 **Murphy** : I already checked, you fuckers owe me $30 each

Clarke snorts and Bellamy taps something out quickly.

 **Bellamy** : I cannot believe that you bet on it

 **Raven** : clarke u bitch u lied to me?????? YOU SAID YOU WERENT ON HIS DICK

 **Bellamy** : Clarke says she’s very sorry and she won’t do it again

 **Murphy** : Lies, she didn’t say anything

 **Miller** : we been knew

Bellamy rolls his eyes.

 **Bellamy** : We have been very secretive

 **Miller** : yeah, right. like I haven’t seen you two canoodeling at the bar, or your apartment, or LITERALLY ANYWHERE ELSE

 **Raven** : AND YOU DIDN’T THNK TO TELL ME

 **Harper** : U PRICK

 **Harper** : U LITERALLY KNEW AND DIDN’T TELL HER BEST FRIENDS WHAT EHU VKFUCK EMORI SAYS FUCK U

 **Jasper** : NOBODY TALK TO ME IM GOING TO TTHORW UP THIS IS ALL IM GOINNA TALK ABOUT FOR MOTHS T HOLY SHITS GUYS HOW DO YOU KNOW

 **Murphy** : Well considering I walked into their apartment and found Clarke in Bellamy’s clothes it wasn’t hard to guess

 **Jasper** : HOLY FUCKIGNE HSLL IM THROGIN UP ARE YOU THROWING UP

 **Monty** : big mood

 **Jasper** named the conversation **ITS BEEN 84 YEARS**

 **Octavia** : damn u leave ur phone for 5 seconds and it’s mass chaos

 **Octavia** : but fucking finally you dumbasses

 **Octavia** : you were both dramatically pining after each other for months thank fuck it’s happened

 **Octavia** : i am unsurprised

Clarke drops her forehead against Bellamy’s shoulder and he chuckles softly. “This is exactly why we didn’t tell you guys,” he tells Murphy, and his friend snorts a bit.

“Oh please, like I haven’t known the whole time. You two are _terrible_ secret keepers. I just needed to catch you in the act to prove it to everyone else,” Murphy says and Bellamy rolls his eyes. “I’m just wondering how you’re going to explain this to Raven,” Murphy glances at Clarke. “She seems very angry that you didn’t tell her you were on Bellamy’s dick.”

Clarke’s laughter is loud and she glances at Bellamy’s phone as Raven declares that this deserves a national headline. “I think she’ll get over it eventually.”

Bellamy thinks that he’s going to get off easy, but then he catches the look in Murphy’s eyes. “So? Is it everything you’ve dreamed of? Flowers and sunshine and rainbows?” He tosses a towel at him and it hits him in the face. “Hey! I’m just being a supportive friend!”

“You’re a shitty supportive friend,” Bellamy tries, but he can’t wipe the grin from his face. He’s happy. While he’s glad that they kept it from their friends for a little bit, it feels good for them to finally know. Even if there’s a high chance they both get murdered for hiding it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter will be an epilogue of some sorts, jumping forward a year to Octavia's wedding
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clxrkeblxke or twitter @saucybellamy


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what a ride it has been. wrapping this fic up in the last few sentences was so hard, but so worth it. i'm pretty sure i cried a little. this fic is my baby and being able to see it to the end is something that i'm so proud of. i am gonna miss writing in this universe so much, but it was so much fun
> 
> thanks to my wonderful friend siouxjay for reading each one of these chapters and helping me make them perfect. huge thanks to everyone who's read this, i literally never imagined that it would get this popular. thanks for sticking with me, even when you wanted to murder me (i'm looking at you chapter 25). just thanks!
> 
> also, will be working on a few more multichapters, a college au and a reality tv au, as well as some one shots, so keep your eye open for those!
> 
> alright now that my sappiness is out of the way, enjoy!

“Clarke, we gotta go! They’re here,” Bellamy calls back into the apartment. He vaguely hears his girlfriend respond, and then he’s carrying a bag down to Shaw’s car. “Hey.” Shaw tips his head and helps Bellamy load up while Raven hurries inside to help Clarke with whatever she’s doing.

The two men lean against the side of the car for a moment, and Shaw shoves his hands in his pockets. “Remind me again why the girls decided they wanted to drive to Canada?”

Bellamy snorts a bit and watches as Raven exists the apartment with the bag of their formal wear. “Who knows. They’re both kind of nuts.”

Shaw snorts and Raven throws the bag into the car. “Clarke needs you, Bellamy. And then she said that we’re good to go.”

Bellamy takes a breath and climbs the stairs back to his apartment quickly to find Clarke zooming around the living room. “Hey. You ready?”

“I think so,” she replies, “I’m just checking to make sure everything’s locked. And that nothing will go bad while we’re gone.”

“We looked through the fridge already,” Bellamy tells her, ticking it off on his fingers, “and we checked all of the windows last night. We’re good to go.”

“We’re leaving for nearly two weeks, Bellamy,” Clarke says, and Bellamy waits patiently as she continues her last-minute check of their apartment. “Gotta make sure everything is okay.”

Bellamy gives her a quick kiss and Clarke smiles before stepping back. She brushes something off of his shoulder. “You ready?”

He takes a deep breath and then nods. “Yeah. I’m as ready as I’m ever gonna be.”

She nods back. “Alright. Let’s do this. Let’s drive to Canada.”

A few months ago when Octavia told them that she wanted to get married in Canada, Bellamy didn’t believe her. She’s never been to Canada, and he thought that it would be odd to get married in a place she had never been. But as the wedding got closer and she and Lincoln actually booked places in Thunder Bay, Canada, he knew it was real.

So instead of flying to Canada, he and Clarke and Raven and Shaw decided that they wanted to drive to Canada. Bellamy and Clarke are taking a New Years’ trip to Amsterdam after the wedding, and Raven said that she’d be happy to drop them off at the airport after the wedding. It’s all working out.

Bellamy’s anxious out of his mind for multiple reasons, but he’s excited and happy for other reasons.

The trip goes smoothly enough. Thunder Bay is twenty-two hours from Boston, so they’re doing the drive in two days. Bellamy and Shaw are in charge of driving the first day, and Clarke and Raven have the second day.

They’re in for a long two days, but it’ll be worth it once they finally get there. If they ever get there. Driving to Canada in the winter probably isn’t the best idea, but it’s an idea that they’re all excited for. They can do this. It’ll be fun. He’s with his friends, and his girlfriend. It’s gonna be great. 

* * *

 

Both Clarke and Raven are practically asleep when Bellamy and Zeke decide to pull off of the highway very late that night. Clarke blinks her eyes open when she feels the car slowing down. “What’s going on?”

“We’re stopping for the night,” Zeke tells them quietly, and Raven groans a bit.

“Where are we?”

“A town called Kapuskasing,” Bellamy says, struggling to say the word. “We’re a little over halfway.” Driving to Canada is no joke. Clarke squeezes her eyes tighter. All she wants to do is sleep forever. “We’re looking for a hotel or something,” Bellamy murmurs, reaching back to squeeze Clarke’s knee lightly. She drops her head against the door as the boys talk quietly in the front seat.

She thinks that she dozes again because next thing she knows, Raven is shaking her awake. “Hey. Boys found a place to stay.” Clarke rubs at her eyes and finds a Comfort Inn staring back at her. She’s very tired, and she’s excited to sleep in a bed instead of the car. The four of them drowsily step out of the car and Clarke relishes in the feeling of stretching and standing for the first time in a while. It’s cold, but it’s nice to be outside again. They rummage in the back of the car for whatever they’re going to need tonight, and then hurry inside. Canada is _really_ fucking cold. Bellamy’s fingers link with Clarke’s and she can’t help but lean against him as they find a room for the night. 

Thankfully there’s one room left with two beds, and they accept it quickly. They don’t even care that they’re all going to be sharing a room for the night, it’s still a room.

Once upstairs, she can’t help but fall onto one of the beds and Bellamy grins sleepily. “At least we’re halfway there,” he murmurs and she nods. Raven collapses onto the other bed and Bellamy and Zeke share a look, but Clarke’s too tired to pay attention. “Alright, get up. Gotta get ready for bed.” Both of the girls groan, and Bellamy takes her by her hands to get her to stand up.

Raven and Clarke stumble into the bathroom to get ready to go to sleep, and neither of them say much. They’re both just so sleepy.

By the time they’re all ready to bed, Clarke is nearly asleep on her feet. She and Raven have been curled up in their respective beds as they wait for the guys to get ready. She’s jolted awake when Bellamy shuffles around to the other side of the bed. “Sorry,” he whispers, and she rubs at her eyes while Zeke crawls into bed with Raven.

“Remind me why we thought we could make the trip in one day?”

“Because we’re idiots,” Raven mumbles, snuggling deeper into the bed. “Idiocy is our brand, Clarke.”

The blonde snorts a bit before stretching to plug in her phone. “What time do we wanna wake up? Bellamy will probably be up hours before whatever time we pick, but—” Her boyfriend hits her lightly with a pillow and she smiles sleepily.

“We still have ten hours, we need to get up early,” Zeke grumbles, and Clarke groans before setting her alarms for seven.

“You hate waking up,” Bellamy tells her as he tosses one of the spare pillows off of the bed.

“I don’t have a choice,” Clarke grumbles and he rolls his eyes a bit. Zeke reaches over and swiftly turns off the lamp closet to his bed. In the dim room Clarke sees Raven curling into her boyfriend’s side, and Clarke longs to do the same.

Bellamy turns off their lamp before sliding into bed next to her. The sheets are cold, but Bellamy is warm. They don’t usually sleep so close together anymore, sometimes it’s his hand on her hip, or her forehead pressed into his back, but tonight she gets the sense that he needs to hold her.

With his sister getting married, she knows that Bellamy feels like that’s one less person that he can protect. It’s silly, but it’s who he is and it’s how he grew up, so Clarke knows what she has to do. Bellamy twines his arm around her waist and he pulls her closer to him. Clarke presses her face into his sternum as the rustling in the room finally slows down.

It’s quiet in the room for a moment as both couples get comfortable. Then, Raven speaks up, her voice sleepy but clear. “You two better not have sex while we’re in here.”

Bellamy snorts a bit, but doesn’t respond. His thumb rubs in circles on her hip, and as much as Clarke wants to fall asleep, she needs to make sure he’s doing alright. The closer and closer they’ve gotten to Canada the quieter and quieter he’s gotten.

Clarke’s fingers play with the collar of his shirt as they wait for the other side of the room to quiet down. He doesn’t say anything, but Clarke can hear his mind going a mile a minute. “Bellamy,” she finally whispers, after a few minutes of silence from the other bed. “Are you awake?”

He grunts a bit, and she pulls back from his chest to look at him. “Can’t stop thinking,” he mumbles back, and then rubs at his face with the hand that isn’t around Clarke.

“I can hear you thinking,” she agrees, and Bellamy huffs out a breath.

He’s quiet again for a minute, and then he rolls fully onto his back. Clarke rests her chin on his chest, waiting patiently for whatever he has to say. “It’s just—she’s getting married, Clarke. And I’m happy about it, but it’s weird. I’ve had a year to adjust to this and I accept it and I’m happy for her, but—”

“It’s weird,” Clarke finishes, and he nods. She sits up and he groans and tries to keep her in the bed. “No, c’mon. It’s clear that you need to talk about it.”

“But it’s clear you need to go to sleep,” he grumbles and Clarke gives him a look.

“You needing to talk about this change overweighs my need for sleep,” Clarke tells him, blinking the exhaustion from her eyes. “Besides, Raven will kill us if we keep talking and wake her up.”

Clarke tugs on his hand and Bellamy finally sighs and sits up and reaches for his shirt. Clarke finds a sweatshirt and tugs it over her head before drowsily tiptoeing out into the hallway. He slides down against the wall and Clarke follows, taking Bellamy’s hand to play with his fingers. Bellamy rests his head against the wall and lets out a sigh.

“It’s not that I’m upset. I’m not. She’s happy, it’s so obvious that she’s happy and I want her to stay that happy. It’s just weird. I’m giving her off in three days, and then it’s like she’s gone,” Bellamy says, watching Clarke play with his hands. His brows are furrowed and he looks beyond frustrated with himself and how he’s feeling, and Clarke hates it.

“She’s not gonna be gone, Bellamy,” she murmurs, stretching her legs out in front of her. It’s very late, and there’s no one else in the hallway, but she still feels like she needs to be quiet. This conversation is for them, and only them. “Her new house is thirty minutes away. You know she’s still gonna find a way to be over all of the time, and her job is twenty minutes from us.”

Bellamy nods a bit and releases another tight breath. He’s quiet for a moment, and when he finally speaks his voice is low. “She was all I had for such a long time, Clarke. After Mom died it was just us for a few years, and even before she died it was just us sometimes. And I know that’s not the case anymore because I have our friends and I have you and you mean the entire fucking _world_ to me but—” Bellamy locks his jaw and rests his cheek on Clarke’s head. “It’s just strange.”

Clarke nods a bit. “It is strange. I get that. But you know she’s ready, Bellamy.” He nods back, and Clarke presses forward. “She’s so happy. I haven’t seen her this happy since college when she met Lincoln. You’re not gonna lose her, I promise. I’d be mad if she stopped showing up, too.”

Bellamy finally lets out a little laugh and he pulls her a little closer. “You’re too good at calming me down.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” she whispers, and Bellamy snorts. He turns her head and tips her chin to kiss her gently, and Clarke smiles a bit when she feels _his_ smile.  “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” he whispers back. He peppers kisses on her lips and Clarke laughs a bit, finally wrapping her arms around his neck lightly. “We aren’t allowed to have sex, Clarke. Raven’s orders.”

“I can kiss you without having sex,” she laughs, and Bellamy smirks into her neck. “I’m too tired for sex, anyways. And we are not having sex in a shitty hotel room.”

Bellamy pulls back and pecks her lips once more, and then her forehead. “We can have sex in a fancy hotel room tomorrow night.”

Clarke lets out a happy sounding laugh and Bellamy’s eyes do the thing they do when she laughs like that. “I like that idea _so_ much better.”

He squeezes her waist quickly. “You ready to go to sleep?”

“As long as you’re feeling better.”

Bellamy nods and stands, helping her up. “I am. Thank you.”

He carefully opens the door and they slip back into bed silently. Bellamy curls her back into his arms and kisses her cheek a few times, before turning her head to kiss her softly. “Love you.”

Clarke puts her hand on his cheek and smiles a bit. “Love you, too.” It’s their nightly ritual. Every night before they go to sleep Bellamy makes it a point to tell her that he loves her. Every night, even if they’re in a fight. There was a time in September when they got into a fight about money, and didn’t really speak to each other for a couple days. But every night, he still said that he loved her.

She loves him very much, and she’s going to continue loving him for a very long time.

* * *

 

Bellamy shakes Clarke awake gently at seven-thirty in the morning. She groans and curls deeper into her pillow, and he sighs a bit. “Time to get up,” he murmurs, running a hand over her back.

“Too early,” she grumbles, and Bellamy chuckles softly as Raven gets ready to wake Shaw up.

“We gotta get driving if we wanna get there before midnight,” he tells her and Clarke finally blinks her eyes open. “There she is.” Bellamy brushes her hair from her face and sits lightly on the edge of the bed.

“Maybe if we just speed we can get there before midnight,” she yawns, closing her eyes again. Bellamy rolls his eyes and continues rubbing her back.

“You know we can’t speed, we’re rule followers,” Bellamy jokes and Clarke finally sits up and leans against his side. “Morning.”

“Mmm,” she hums, and Bellamy watches as Raven grabs a pillow, and then whacks Shaw lightly with it.

“Be glad I don’t wake you up like that,” Bellamy murmurs before kissing her forehead. Clarke chuckles a little as Shaw grabs another pillow and tries to fling it at Raven.

“Every morning, Rae?” He grumbles, but it’s clear he’s smiling. He throws an arm over his eyes to block the light. Raven laughs and drops the pillow before crawling to lean over him.

“Not every morning,” Raven says, and Bellamy grins a bit. “Only the mornings when we’re running late. Like right now.”

Shaw groans before sitting up. He glances over at Bellamy and Clarke and then rubs his eyes quickly. “Fuck, we really have ten more hours to drive.” Clarke groans and Bellamy stands up to throw the rest of his stuff into his bag. He tosses Clarke one of her t-shirts and leggings and she disappears into the bathroom to change.

“Clarke and I are taking first shift,” Raven says after pulling on her jacket. “I’m gonna go grab coffee, Bellamy do you want to come with?” Raven raises her eyebrows at him, and then cocks her head at the bathroom where Clarke is. He knows what this is.

“Yeah. Sure,” he says, because he knows he’s not gonna get out of this one. Bellamy pulls on his coat and knocks on the bathroom door. “Clarke, baby do you want coffee?”

He hears a sigh from behind the door. “You’re an angel.”

Bellamy grins a bit before following Raven from the room. “Don’t fall back asleep, Zeke!”

“I’m getting up, calm down woman,” Shaw calls back, and Raven grins as they exit the room. Immediately, Raven’s brows are raised again as they walk to the lobby to get coffee.

“Don’t give me that look,” Bellamy grumbles, shoving his hands into his pockets. He feels around for the small box and relaxes a bit when he finds it. “I’m working on it.”

Raven snorts a bit. “Working on it. Are you gonna do it before or after the wedding?”

“Before,” Bellamy says, but then frowns. “After. I don’t know, Raven. It’s a lot. I don’t even know if she’ll say _yes_.”

She nods as they reach the coffee and it’s quiet for a minute as they fix everything up. “I know it’s a lot. I’d be scared shitless if I was you. And Bellamy Blake, do you seriously think that girl is going to say no to a _proposal of marriage_?”

“I don’t know,” Bellamy mumbles, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. Because the thing is, he doesn’t think she’ll say no. It’s just the fact that they’ve only technically been dating for a year, and that they’ve only talked about it a little. He’s certain that she wants to marry him, but this soon?

“And before you say it’s too soon,” Raven says as she slips a cap onto Shaw’s cup, practically reading Bellamy’s mind. “I don’t get sappy much, but I’ve heard from Clarke that you’re a goddamn sap so I’m gonna be a sap right now, but she’s so in love with you, and she wants to spend her life with you. Timing doesn’t matter with the two of you. Except if you’re trying to get together, because that took ages,” she says, and Bellamy shoves her shoulder a bit. “But it just works with you two. I guess it really is one of those if you know you know kinda things.”

Bellamy laughs nervously instead of thinking about Raven’s words. “Who knew Raven Reyes had the capability to be a sap?”

She groans and wrinkles her nose at him. “You’re terrible. Maybe I’ll tell her and spill the beans.”

“You will do no such thing,” Bellamy grumbles as he catches up to her. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

Raven grins as the come to their door, but then looks at him sincerely. “I would never. I know this means a lot to you, and probably to her even if she doesn’t know it’s coming. She doesn’t know it’s coming, right?”

Bellamy shakes his head. “I hid the ring at Monty’s. There is literally no way for her to know, unless you or Monty said something.”

“Monty would die before he spilled that secret,” Raven deadpans, and Bellamy looks down with a grin. “You’re in the clear. I just don’t know how long I can keep the secret. She’s my best friend, dude.”

Bellamy quirks his brows a bit and then rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You two besties are driving today.”

Raven opens the door with her hip to find Clarke and Shaw watching the news. “My angel!” Clarke says, obviously still a little drowsy, and Bellamy laughs a bit. He hands her the coffee and drops a kiss to her head. She takes a long sip before standing up. “Alright. Now we can go.”

“No one expect her to say anything for another hour,” Bellamy says, and Clarke rolls her eyes at him. He only grins back, incredibly fond of her.

They get everything back in the car again, and they’re off. Raven driving, Clarke in the passenger seat, and Bellamy and Shaw in the back. The first hour of the trip is quiet, and just as Bellamy predicted, Clarke doesn’t say a word. For a while, he thinks that she’s fallen asleep, but she grabs her cup every once in a while.

Bellamy thinks about everything he has to do in the next two weeks. Walk Octavia down the aisle. Make sure the wedding goes smoothly. Get on a plane to Amsterdam. _Propose to his girlfriend_. Yeah, that one has the most importance. He just doesn’t want to lose the ring before he can do it. That would be terrible.

He is scared shitless.

Not that he’s worried she’s going to say no. But he’s worried that she is going to think it’s too soon. They won’t even have been together for a year, if he proposes before the 26th. Considering they’re staying in Canada till the 29th, and then flying out that night, he’s definitely leaning towards after the 26th. He’s grateful that they’ve decided to celebrate their anniversary once they get to Amsterdam rather than the day that they left for Canada. Even then, a year is only a year.

He doesn’t know how this is going to go, but he’s ready to do it. It’s cheesy, but apparently he’s a sap, so it’s okay, but he wants to spend his life with her. Not just live in an apartment together, but literally have _everything_ with her. A house, a dog, _kids_. He’s always wanted kids, and they recently had the kid talk.

Clarke told him that for the longest time she didn’t want kids, which was a blow to his stomach at first. As soon as he started thinking that he’d be okay because he’d still have her, she told him that the only person she’d ever want to have kids with is him. So they talked about it, and they agreed that if kids are in the equation, there’s only going to be two. Clarke said that she didn’t know if she could handle more than two kids with both of their genes. It’s more than enough for him.

Two kids, maybe a dog, and Clarke.

That’s all he needs to be happy.

About two and a half hours later, they stop and Clarke takes over. Since her accident a year ago, she’s gotten tremendously more comfortable behind the wheel. It took a lot of coaxing, and a lot of kisses, but she’s gotten to the point where she doesn’t feel nervous anymore, and Bellamy is grateful.

She catches his eye in the rear view, and he winks at her. He and Zeke go back to talking, and Raven curls up to nap a little. It turns out that Canada is a whole lot of nothing unless you’re in the bigger cities. After they went through Montreal at the border yesterday, they haven’t seen anything that resembles it. So Bellamy could say that they’re all pretty bored.

They stop again in a small little town about three hours from Thunder Bay and Bellamy and Clarke spend their ten-minute little break trying to take a picture of each other, but the wind is not their friend. The cold in Canada also doesn’t help, so Bellamy thinks that Clarke’s fingers are going to fall off.

It would be easy, so easy to propose right now. It’s a pretty place, and she’s a beautiful woman, and it would make sense. But before he can seriously think about it, Raven calls to get their attention, and then it’s time to go. This time, Bellamy’s driving.

He’s got a lot of nervous energy but his girlfriend and his friends do a lot to help. They talk the majority of the three hours, and only get quiet when they get super close. He has to admit, Octavia picked a beautiful place to get married at. Even if he’s been in a car for nearly twenty-four hours.

They finally pull onto a main road, and the conversation shifts to directions. Turn left here, straight for a mile, right up ahead. Finally, the come to a stop outside of the Inn that they’ll be staying at for the next few days, as well as the place where the wedding reception is being held. Surprisingly to him, Octavia is getting married in a church, but truthfully Bellamy thinks it’s just because Lincoln’s family is religious. She doesn’t seem to mind, however, so it all has worked out.

Raven and Clarke immediately hop out of the car to stretch and look around. Bellamy presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighs before getting out as well. They’ve been driving for so long he just wants to pass out. Now he knows how Clarke felt yesterday.

They grab a couple bags before heading inside, and he’s nearly knocked over by the force of his sister’s hug. “You made it! In one piece! You didn’t kill each other!”

Bellamy scoffs but gives his sister a tight hug. “I can’t believe you doubted us. We were just fine.”

“Except trying to get through Montreal,” Raven says, shooting a look at Bellamy, “we almost got turned around to go _back_ to Boston.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “Do not pin that only on me, you were the one navigating!”

“But—”

Clarke groans and shuts her eyes for a moment. “Are you two going to argue about this for the next three days?”

“Yes,” both Raven and Bellamy grumble, and Clarke rolls her eyes quickly. She hikes her backpack further up onto her back and grabs one of the suitcases to go check in. Bellamy glares at Raven playfully before following Clarke quickly, and she grins when he pulls up behind her to rest his hands on her hips. “Are you happy we’re here?”

“As of right now I think I’m happy to be out of the car. As me again tomorrow when it’s daylight and I’ve slept,” she tells him, and Bellamy laughs before checking them in.

Octavia chatters their ear off as they bid Raven and Shaw goodnight. She helps them carry their stuff to their room, and Clarke’s smile widens more and more as Octavia talks about how excited she is. Bellamy listens to his sister and his girlfriend chat while he hides the little jewelry box at the bottom of his backpack in one of the small pockets. He feels weird without it on his body, but he knows that Clarke would eventually find it.

After what feels like hours but he knows it’s only minutes, Octavia stands and stretches, saying that she needs to get some sleep. Bellamy can agree. He’s ready to pass out. “Okay I know I’ll see you at the rehearsal dinner tomorrow night, but I was gonna go check out some of the parks with Monty and Jasper and his new girlfriend if you’re in.”

“Sure,” Clarke says with a grin. She hands up their formal wear and then turns to Octavia. “As long as it’s not before nine o’clock.”

Octavia snorts and gives them a wave before disappearing out of the door. Clarke turns to him and steps closer, folding her body into his arms. He sighs and wraps his arms around her back, holding her so tightly he almost lifts her off of the ground. Clarke laughs a little and noses into his chest. “Hey. I’m glad we’re here.”

Bellamy laughs and rests his cheek on her head. “I am too. But I am really fucking exhausted, can we go to bed?”

Clarke snorts a bit and nods. “Go to bed or go to bed?”

“Go to bed,” Bellamy supplies, unhelpful. He just loves teasing her, and she rolls her eyes. “Seriously, just going to sleep would be fantastic right now. We can have sex tomorrow morning,” he says, and Clarke nods.

“Fine with me,” she murmurs, springing on her toes to kiss him. He grins a bit, never tired of kissing her. He wants to kiss her for the rest of his life, and hopefully after this week he’ll be able to.

* * *

 

The rehearsal dinner the next night goes smoothly, and before Clarke knows it, it’s the morning of the wedding. For the first time during her relationship with Bellamy, he’s the one trying to get her to stay in bed.

Bellamy’s been giving her sweet kisses for the past five minutes, and every time that she says she really needs to get up, all he says is “just a few more.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke finally laughs when he burns a trail of kisses down her neck. “I really need to go.” He groans into her neck and nibbles on her collarbone. She swats him away with a smug grin. “No marks.”

Her boyfriend looks up with a shit eating grin. “I have _never_ given you a hickey.” Clarke raises a brow, and his grin only widens. “On places visible to people other than you and me.”

“God, you’re such a freak,” Clarke huffs, but the red on her cheeks is unmistakable. Bellamy smirks and slinks back up to kiss her deeply. She obliges for a moment, almost losing herself in the feeling of him, but she pulls back before it gets too far.

Bellamy groans. “You’re killing me, baby.”

Clarke laughs for a moment before finally slipping out of his grasp. She rolls out of bed and reaches for her phone to check the time. “Hey, when the wedding is over tonight we can have _lots_ of sex.”

He laughs a bit, running his hand through his hair. He looks so adorable and endearing that Clarke can’t help but snap a picture of him. He smiles drowsily at her, and then his smile transforms to a wicked grin. “God, your sex drive has been through the _roof_ the last few weeks. Not that I’m complaining,” he grins, “but it’s a miracle we’ve made it through the last couple of days without having a lot of sex.”

She laughs as there’s a knock on the door. She quickly pulls on some clothes, and Clarke can feel Bellamy’s eyes on her. “That’s only because I knew it was getting closer to break and I’d be able to have sex with you all of the time again. And I guess we’ll just have to make up for it tonight,” she teases as she slips on some shoes. Bellamy groans and collapses back onto their bed. “I’ll see you in a couple hours. Love you!”

Bellamy chuckles softly, “have fun getting ready, love you too.”

Raven’s outside of the door, looking tired but ready to go. The pair are quiet as they make their way to the car that’s waiting for them. Harper and Emori are already inside, and Clarke assumes that Octavia and the hairdresser are taking a different car. The four discuss their excitement for the day and by the time the ride is over Clarke can barely contain her excitement.

That excitement comes to a screeching halt when she walks into the suite that they’ve been given for the day.

“Hey, Tavia? We’re all here, Harper and Emori are looking around and Raven’s—” Clarke stops when she sees Octavia coming out of the attached bathroom. She looks terrible. Her face looks a little green and she looks like she’s just seen a ghost. “Hey. Are you okay? Why do you look like you’re about to throw up?”

“Cause I’m about to throw up,” she mumbles, her eyes staring forward as if she can’t see anything. Clarke watches in horror as her friend turns around and lurches towards the toilet to vomit.

Clarke hurries forward with disbelief and a little panic. She hears the door open again and then Raven’s quiet, “ _oh shit_.” Quickly, Clarke pulls back Octavia’s hair as she throws up, and out of the corner of her eye she sees Harper and Emori go back into the hallway to keep everyone out.

Raven’s eyes are wide as she stares at something on the counter. She nudges Clarke as Octavia clutches at the toilet seat. The blonde looks up, and her eyes nearly pop out of her head.

Because there is a positive pregnancy test glaring back at her.

Octavia takes a shuddering breath. “I know. I know, guys.” She’s about to say something, but then she vomits again. Clarke grimaces and Raven has to look away. The two are quiet for a moment as Octavia regains the ability to breathe. “You—you can tell Harper and Emori to come in. We’ve got some time.”

Raven moves quickly to get away from the vomit, and Clarke helps Octavia out into the living room area of the suite. Harper and Emori come in with their brows raised and concern on their faces, and Octavia only holds up the test.

It’s quiet for a moment, before Harper lets out a shaky laugh. “Are you,” she takes a breath, “are you happy about it?”

Octavia nods instantly, and a hesitant smile breaks out on her face. “I am,” she whispers. “I really am. Obviously it wasn’t planned,” she babbles, her voice watery, and Clarke finally allows herself to breathe. “And I know it’s still early but—” Octavia takes another deep breath and swats at her eyes. “But I’m pregnant.”

And only then do they allow themselves to scream, because fuck, Octavia’s getting married and she’s pregnant. They scream and cry and cheer for what feels like ages, because they’re allowed to be this happy.

After a few minutes though, Octavia finally stops. “I can’t drink.”

“We won’t drink out of solidarity,” Harper suggests, and the rest of them nod slowly. Octavia looks puzzled for a moment.

“No, no, it’s not that, even though I’d appreciate that,” she points out, but then furrows her brow like Bellamy does when he’s thinking. “It’s just—Lincoln doesn’t know. I only found out twenty minutes ago, and I don’t want him to find out on our _wedding day_. So I’m gonna have to keep it a secret until at least tomorrow. So I can’t drink.”

Clarke shrugs and takes Octavia’s hands quickly. “Well, in that case, we won’t drink either, like Harper said. If we’re all not drinking they won’t think anything of it, they’ll just think that we’re doing one of the weird things that we do. And it’ll stay a secret longer.” Octavia snorts a bit and wipes under her eyes.

“You’d do that?”

“Of course,” Raven says, draping an arm over her shoulder. “You’d do the same for us.”

So it’s decided right then that none of them are drinking tonight. As much as Clarke would love to have the expensive wine, she knows that this is for the good of everyone. They cry a little more, but then it’s time to actually get ready.

Everything goes pretty smoothly from there on out, besides Octavia nearly crying when she looks at the test again, but still, smooth. Someone’s in there taking pictures as they get ready, and Clarke can’t wait to see how they turn out. Octavia snaps a picture of the pregnancy test before tossing it into the bathroom trash, and her smile is so, so bright. Clarke’s happy for her. She’s happy for Lincoln. And she’s happy for… Bellamy.

Bellamy’s going to be an uncle.

He’s going to pass out from happiness.

She chews at her lip as the woman does her hair and just thinks about what his face is going to look like when he finds out. He’s going to be overjoyed for his sister. Then she gets to thinking.

Imagine if _she_ was pregnant.

If she was carrying Bellamy’s child.

Admittedly, the feeling that sprouts in her chest is not one of fear, but of want. She _wants_ to have a baby with Bellamy. She wants him to be the father of her children. Clarke never wanted children when she was in college. It wasn’t until she started actually dating Bellamy that the idea of having kids was rooted firmly into her head.

Pregnancy is scary, but she knows that she’d be able to get through it with Bellamy. He’d be an incredible father, and she wants to give him that. She wants a family with him, and suddenly she wants it badly.

* * *

 

Bellamy knocks on Octavia’s door softly before opening it and peaking inside. “Hey. You almost ready?” He watches as Octavia turns to face him quickly, a bright smile plastered on her face. “You look great, O.”

“You think so? It’s not too, I dunno, not me?”

Bellamy chuckles and steps further into the room, shutting the door behind him. “I think it’s perfectly you.” She looks down at herself in her wedding dress. God, that’s weird. Bellamy’s about to say something else when two more women are hurrying through the room. He watches as Clarke helps Octavia get her veil on, and Bellamy could swear that his heart lodges into his throat. His girlfriend is helping his sister get ready for her wedding and both of his girls are here and he doesn’t know what he feels besides immense joy.

“Are you ready?” Raven asks, nudging his side as he watches Clarke fix the button on Octavia’s dress.

“As ready as I’m ever going to be,” Bellamy replies, unable to pull his eyes from Clarke. It’s not even that she looks better than she normally does, Clarke always looks fantastic; it’s just her happiness is contagious. It’s practically radiating off of her. Her smile is bright and her face is flushed like it always is when she’s this happy.

“Stop ogling, your sister is getting married,” Raven mumbles and Bellamy shoves her lightly.

“I am not,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes. But he can’t help but sweeping his eyes over Clarke’s figure, and thinking just how good she looks in blue. Both Clarke and Octavia turn to him and he grins again. “You do really look great, Octavia."

She grins widely and he disappears for a moment to use the bathroom as Clarke and Raven put the finishing touches on Octavia. It’s as he’s drying his hands that his eye catches on something in the trash can. He tilts his head as he dries his hands, and his eyes widen when he realizes what it is.

Now, Bellamy has shitty eyesight. He always has, and he probably always will. But that pregnancy test very clearly says _Pregnant_. He freezes and stares at it in shock. Fuck, pregnant. Raven’s laughter from outside of the bathroom jogs his thoughts and he stumbles a little bit.

The five of them have been in here all morning. That pregnancy test is one of theirs. Oh god, _Clarke_ has been here all morning. There’s no way she’s pregnant, right? She’s on the pill, they use condoms… except for that string of nights a month ago when they didn’t.

Shit, when was her last period? Bellamy’s brain moves a mile a minute trying to think, but he realizes that he doesn’t know. It was at the beginning of the month, right? No, that doesn’t sound right. Symptoms, what are the symptoms of pregnancy? Morning sickness is the clearest indicator, right? Fuck, he doesn’t know. But she hasn’t been vomiting, in fact he doesn’t know the last time Clarke threw up. He’s frantic trying to figure it out.

There’s a knock on the door. “Bellamy?” Clarke’s voice reaches him through the door and he tries to school is face into a neutral expression, not one that screams _someone-is-pregnant-and-I-wasn’t-supposed-to-find-out_. “It’s almost time and if you want to talk to Octavia now’s your chance.”

Bellamy shakes his head and tries to clear it of the panic that’s running through him. He was certainly _not_ supposed to find that out. But he forces a smile and opens the door to find Clarke still standing there. Despite the fact that he’s still freaking out, her smiling face sets him at ease for a moment. He tries to kiss her, but she deflects it onto her cheek. “I’ll get lipstick on you.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “You think I care?” He murmurs, but still, she won’t kiss him and he lets her go. Women and their damn lipstick. Clarke and Raven leave the siblings be and Bellamy turns towards Octavia. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m a little nervous,” Octavia admits, and he raises a brow, “not that I’m reconsidering. I guess it’s just weird that it’s going to be official. And I’m happy and I’m ready.”

Bellamy nods and moves a bit closer to her to look at her in the mirror. “You’ve been ready for years.”

Octavia nods and looks down at her feet., “I wish Mom was here.”

He sighs, and gives his sister a hug. “I do, too. She would’ve liked Lincoln. She would’ve liked him a hell of a lot more than I did at the start,” he says, and it earns him a whack to the shoulder. “He’s alright. If you’re happy, I’m happy. And I’m glad he’s the one you picked. Imagine if you were marrying your high school boyfriend.”

“God, please do not bring him up on my wedding day,” Octavia groans, and then lifts her eyes as she turns to him. “You mean it?”

Bellamy nods, a broad smile stretching across his face. “Yeah, I do. I mean it.” Octavia squeezes his hands tighter, and it looks like she’s going to say something, but she stops. “Mom’s earrings look good, O.”

She smiles again. She shakes her head a bit so the dangles swing. “I wouldn’t have them if it wasn’t for you.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes as there’s another knock on the door. Clarke pokes her head back in. “Sorry,” she says apologetically, “but we gotta line up. Lincoln just went in.”

He nods and offers his arm to Octavia to help her walk. Clarke smiles at the both of them and they follow her back to the line-up. Octavia’s jittering with nervous energy as Clarke hands her the flowers. Bellamy’s just trying to push the thought of what he saw out of his head. He can worry about it at the reception.

He watches as Clarke gets lead in with one of Lincoln’s brothers, and soon enough it’s their turn to go. “You ready?” He whispers to his sister, and she nods, blinking her eyes quickly.

“I am. Let’s go,” Octavia says, and then they’re off.

Bellamy’s gonna be honest, the ceremony flies by. He shakes Lincoln’s hand, sits down next to Murphy and Monty, and it starts. It is a beautiful ceremony and Bellamy spends most of the time either staring at Clarke or Octavia. Octavia used to be the only important person in his life. But now he has Clarke, and he’d go to the end of the world for Clarke. He loves them both very much, and he’s so glad he has them.

Clarke catches his eye when the preacher asks if anyone objects this marriage, and he has to stifle his laughter. She raises a brow and grins a little bit before turning back to watch Octavia. Fuck, Clarke’s perfect. He wants to marry her _so badly_. He’s gonna ask her as soon as possible, as soon as he finds the right time. He stares at her, and his eyes drop slowly to her stomach. What if she is the one that’s pregnant?

It would change their lives drastically. In a good way, he hopes. They’d have a baby that’s half him and half Clarke and they’d be a family. Bellamy wants a family with her, but he doesn’t know if this is the right time. Besides, he’s not even completely sure that she’s the pregnant one.

Murphy nudges Bellamy’s side and raises a brow before tipping his head in the direction of Octavia. “You good?” Bellamy nods and watches his sister. He’s barely taken a breath when the preacher announces them husband and wife, and then he can’t stop grinning. Octavia looks so happy, and Lincoln is smiling more than Bellamy has ever seen, and he’s glad that Octavia met him in college. Even if he wasn’t at first.

* * *

 

Pictures at the church go by smoothly, and before he knows it they’re all back at the hotel for the reception. Clarke disappeared within seconds to help Octavia with something, and Bellamy watches her go with a grin. He spends the next few minutes avoiding Lincoln’s cousin Ciera. God, that girl just doesn’t quit.

Dinner starts a few minutes later, and that’s when he gets _really_ freaked out. Because Clarke _isn’t drinking_. He stares at her glass of water for a moment, but then turns away with wide eyes. Fuck, you can’t drink when you’re pregnant. The panic rises in him again and Clarke notices and raises a brow. “You good?”

Bellamy nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he says, forcing a smile. “A lot has happened in the last few hours, though.”

Clarke nods with a smile and leans over to kiss him. His panic eases a bit, but she pulls back much too quickly. “Yeah, it’s been a lot. But it’s all good.”

It’s all good. What does that _mean_? He knows it probably means nothing but what if it doesn’t mean nothing?

Then things get even wackier. _None_ of the girls are drinking. They’re all drinking glasses of water as opposed to wine or champagne. What the hell is going on?

As soon as he can, Bellamy pulls Murphy and Monty aside because he has to tell _someone_. “Why do you look like you’re going to pass out?” Murphy asks, taking a drink from his own glass.

“I found something,” Bellamy starts, and he raises a brow. “I found something I shouldn’t have.”

“Are you going to elaborate?” Monty asks, glancing out into the room as Harper and Clarke laugh about something.

Bellamy shoves his hands in his pockets and tries to find the words. He starts with, “have you noticed none of the girls are drinking?”

Monty shrugs. “Harper said they just decided not too so they could remember the wedding.”

Bellamy scoffs and chews at the inside of his cheek. “Guys, I found a positive pregnancy test in Octavia’s bathroom right before the wedding.” He spits it out, and both Murphy and Monty turn to him with disbelief written all over their faces.

“Whose was it?” Murphy asks quickly, his eyes scanning the crowd for Emori.

“Fuck if I know,” Bellamy says, bouncing on his heels anxiously. “It’s one of theirs, obviously, but I’ve been panicking trying to figure it out.”

Monty shrugs a bit, turning back to Bellamy. “I hope it’s Harper. We’ve been trying for a couple months now, it’d be great.” Bellamy grins a bit and claps his hand on Monty’s shoulder.

“Well now I hope it’s Harper,” he says, and Monty grins brightly. “Just—just don’t mention it to anyone. Not even the girls. I wasn’t supposed to find out.”

Murphy scrubs a hand over his face. “Well fuck, Blake, now you’ve got me freaking out. Were they drinking last night?”

Bellamy wracks his brains and then heaves a sigh. “I don’t know. I was too busy making sure no one died last night to wonder if they were drinking. This wasn’t even a possibility until this morning.”

“What wasn’t a possibility until this morning?” Bellamy freezes at the sound of Emori’s voice. Fuck.

“Uh,” Murphy says, quickly pulling his girlfriend into his side. “Bellamy was just talking about how he might get a raise.” He spouts it out and raises his brows at Monty and Bellamy so that they’ll go along with the fake story.

Emori grins at him. “Hey! That’s good.”

Bellamy forces a grin and nods. “Yeah. Yeah it’s great.” Emori quickly pulls Murphy away because she wants to grab some cake, and Monty lets out a sigh. “What do I do, Monty?”

“Pretend you didn’t see it?” Monty suggests, and Bellamy scowls. “I don’t know. Do you think it’s Clarke?”

He shrugs and lets out a tight breath. “I don’t know, Monty. It could go either way.”

Monty nods a bit. “Just—we keep it quiet for now. There’s a reason they aren’t telling us. We just have to trust that they’ll tell us soon.”

Bellamy sighs again and nods. “Sometimes I forget that you’re younger than me, you know exactly how to deal with panic.” Monty snorts and the two of them watch the reception, unaware of the chaos brewing, go by. 

* * *

 

Clarke’s feet hurt a little, but this wedding reception has been some of the most fun she’s had in months. Lincoln got cake on Octavia’s cheek, Harper caught the bouquet (to Monty’s delight), and Emori’s (not drunken) rendition of _Don’t Stop Believing_ was a hit. Even if the five of them aren’t drinking, it’s been nice. They’ve had a lot of fun together, and the pictures are going to be fantastic once they get processed and sent out.

Bellamy’s been acting weird, but she assumes that it’s just because Octavia’s married. She’s hardly seen him since dinner, but he seemed a little off. They’ve both been too busy talking to people and making sure that things go smoothly, so they haven’t been able to spend time with one another. But now she wants to dance with him, and his hands reach for her when he sees her approaching. Clarke relaxes into him quickly and he grins.

“I didn’t know you knew how to dance,” she teases, her hands linking around the back of his neck.

Bellamy rolls his eyes, “what, all of those times in the living room where you stand on my feet don’t count?” Clarke laughs, her head throwing backward, and he grins, his hands slotting around her waist.

“ _I_ don’t know how to dance,” she says, correcting her earlier statement.

“You’re doing just fine,” Bellamy replies, pressing his fingers into her sides. “You happy?”

Clarke nods, a smile gracing her features, “I am. I’m really happy. And no one has died yet, so I think that’s an accomplishment. Are you happy?”

Bellamy laughs a bit, his eyes lighting up. Then they lock onto hers, and they soften. “I am. I’m happy,” he says, looking around the room for Octavia. “And she’s happy too, so everything worked out.”

Clarke laughs, pressing up to kiss him quickly. “She’s so happy, Bell. It’s been such a good day.” It really has been. Octavia is pregnant and after she got over the initial fear, she was so excited. She and Lincoln are going to be _parents_ in the near future. It’s so weird, but so good.

“Has it?” He asks, his brows raised.

She nods. “It has been. And we go to Amsterdam tomorrow! I’m so excited.”

At the mention of Amsterdam, he looks like his normal self again. “We do go to Amsterdam tomorrow. Our flight is overnight though, so we’ll need to make sure we sleep enough tonight,” he says, and Clarke grins wickedly.

“I thought we were having a lot of sex tonight,” she teases, and Bellamy groans. “I mean, I’m not opposed to sleeping, but—”

“Oh, we are gonna be doing lots of both,” he gruffs under his breath, and Clarke laughs breathily. Even after nearly a year of dating, that voice does things to her. “Hey,” he says and she raises her eyes to meet his. “You know I love you?”

She smiles a bit, her hands playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “You only tell me about a million times a day,” she murmurs, but something in his face has changed, and this suddenly feels much more serious than it did a few seconds ago. “Bellamy, are you okay?”

Her boyfriend nods, but his eyes are still locked onto hers. “I just—I love you very much.”

Clarke cups his cheek and his eyes close for a second. “I love you very much, too,” she tells him, and his eyes pop open. “Are you sure you’re okay? Or has the wedding gone to your head?”

Bellamy chuckles a little and kisses her cheek, but she can tell that he’s avoiding something. “I’m sure the wedding has just gone to my head,” he tells her, and Clarke smiles. She’s about to ask him what’s up when he talks again. “So at what point are we allowed to leave and have lots of sex?”

Clarke laughs loudly and bites at her lip to keep from smiling. “Bellamy Blake this is your sister’s wedding, we are not allowed to leave until she leaves.”  He groans for a second, before leaning down to kiss her deeply. Clarke’s knees go a little week, and she opens her mouth to deepen the kiss, but he pulls back. “You’re a goddamn tease,” she grumbles, but the damage is done. Now all she’s thinking about is having sex with him.

“You love it,” he murmurs, his hands squeezing her waist lightly. “Just let me know when you’re ready,” he hums, back to his usual self.

Now all she’s thinking about is speeding up time to get him into bed.

They get there a few hours later. Clarke loses track of how many times he makes her come through the course of the night, but by the time they’re finished the only name she knows is his.

* * *

 

The next day they’re both jittering with excitement. They sleep in, considering they were up _very_ late the night before, and Bellamy wakes up to Clarke trailing her mouth down his neck and chest. He groans a bit, rubbing at his face before blinking his eyes open. “God, Clarke.”

She hums as she continues to burn a trail down his body, and he tangles his hand in her hair when she reaches his cock.

Clarke sucks him off slowly, her tongue making his brain fuzzy. After being together for a year, she knows just how to edge him, how to turn him into a panting mess. Her tongue swirls around his head and her hands pump the base of his cock.

His hips are jerking a bit and she hums against him before taking his cock deep into her throat and hallowing her cheeks. She moans a bit, her free hand swiping at her clit, and the sight sends him over the edge. Clarke takes everything he gives her, and stares at him up through her lashes, smirking as she goes.

Bellamy takes a breath and nearly drags her up to kiss her. “What a wake-up call,” he murmurs, his hands sliding down her body to inner thighs. “You need some help?”

Clarke groans a bit, but then shakes her head. “I’m good. You got me off like a million times last night.”

“Yeah, well,” he replies, his fingers teasing her outer lips. “Maybe I want to get you off again.” Clarke whimpers a bit and he takes that as a yes, grinning wolfishly. He pats on her ass to get her up to his face, and she frowns. “Hey. You good?”

“I don’t want to suffocate you,” she murmurs, and Bellamy rolls his eyes a bit.

“I have eaten you out like this countless of times and I haven’t suffocated yet,” he counters, and Clarke manages a laugh as his fingers slide over her clit. “Sit on my face, Clarke.” He pats at her ass again and finally she moves her legs so that she’s kneeling over him. Bellamy grins as her hands grip at the headboard tightly. “Good girl,” he murmurs, because praise is her _thing_.

Clarke lets out a shaky breath as he puts his hands on her hips and lowers her onto his face. She gasps at the first contact, like she always does, and he grins into her pussy.

He inhales the heady scent of her arousal and groans. “I can’t believe you’re _real_. You’re fucking incredible.”

“Bell,” she whines, pressing down against his face. He tongues her clit a bit until she starts to pant, and then he closes his mouth around it and sucks lightly. She gasps again, and he laps at the wetness pooling at her slit. He lashes his tongue across her center and Clarke moans, her legs shaking around his head.

Bellamy gropes at her ass to keep her upright before directing his attention back to her clit. He knew it wouldn’t take her long to come this time around, but the shaking of her legs surprises him. Bellamy licks lightly across her clit before dragging one fat strip from her cunt to her clit.

She rides his face through her orgasm, and Bellamy laps up her arousal eagerly. His chin is shiny from her juices, but he doesn’t care. He fucking loves it.

Clarke rolls off of him and collapses. Her breathing is heavy and her face is flushed, and Bellamy only grins. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” she hums, her head dropping to Bellamy’s shoulder. “You’re far too good at that.” 

* * *

 

A few hours later, they’re at the nearest airport. Raven and Shaw are dropping them off before heading back to Boston, and Clarke is grateful. Now they don’t have to worry about a car at the airport or anything happening. They get checked in at security and turn back around to say goodbye to their friends.

Raven pulls Bellamy aside quickly, probably to argue about the trip through Montreal _again_ , and Zeke gives Clarke a grin. “Have fun, Amsterdam is incredible.”

“I forgot that you’ve been there,” Clarke says, remembering when Zeke talked about his time in Amsterdam for the air force. “Any last-minute places you recommend going?”

Zeke thinks for a moment, and then grins. “There’s this really good restaurant—” he starts, but then Bellamy and Raven are heading back over. Bellamy’s putting something in his pocket quickly, and Raven’s grinning like she knows something no one else does.

“You two ready?”

“Ready to be there,” Bellamy grumbles. “Not ready to sit on a plane for eleven hours.”

“At least it’s a night trip,” Clarke reasons, “we can sleep on the plane.”

He quirks his brows before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, you can. You know I can’t sleep on planes.”

“Natural selection is coming for you, then,” Clarke shrugs, and Bellamy rolls his eyes again. “C’mon we gotta go. Can’t wait to sit in the airport for three hours before we get on a plane!”

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “Oh, you _know_ we had to get here early!” But he says his goodbyes to their friends, and Clarke watches as Bellamy and Raven have one more conversation through eye contact. She only raises a brow, and Zeke shrugs.

But then he links his fingers with Clarke’s, and she forgets all about it as they go through international security. She’s too excited to be in Amsterdam that all she can think about is the fact that she’s going to be there with Bellamy, her favorite person in the entire universe.

Octavia’s secret is still sitting at the front of her mind, but it’s not her secret to tell. He’ll find out at some point, even if it’s in a few weeks. She does feel bad about keeping it from him, as it is his niece or nephew. Not for the first time since yesterday morning, she wonders how it would go if she was the pregnant one. How he would take it.

Bellamy jogs her thoughts as they get through security. “You good?”

Clarke nods as she hoists her backpack further onto her shoulder. They checked their bags and sent Raven and Zeke home with the stuff from the wedding, but Clarke knew she was going to need a backpack for the flight. It is a long flight, but she’s really good at sleeping on planes. Bellamy however, is not, so he’ll be cranky when they get there, but she can handle it. “I’m good. Just ready to be there,” she hums and Bellamy nods, taking her hand again so he doesn’t lose her in the crowd.

“Same,” he responds as they search for their gate. “Not looking forward to the flight.”

“I mean we did just spend two days in a car with Raven and Zeke, so I think we can handle it.”

Bellamy grins a bit as they hurry through the airport. They’ve got time, but Bellamy likes to be early. She’s learned the hard way to not be late when going to things with Bellamy. “Yeah, we’ve got this.”

* * *

 

Seven hours later though, when they’re four hours into a flight to Europe, Bellamy can’t help but think that they don’t _got this_. Neither of them can sleep, and Clarke said that her stomach is feeling weird, which, _instantly_ put him back into panic mode. He also couldn’t help but notice that when _he_ ordered a drink, _she_ did not.

Bellamy shifts in his seat again as Clarke tries to get comfortable. “Are you sure you’re alright?” He murmurs into her hair, careful not to disturb the sleeping passengers around them. There’s some random man sitting in the seat next to Bellamy, and he fell asleep instantly. Bellamy wishes they were that lucky.

“I think I’m fine,” she murmurs back, tucking her feet under her. “I just haven’t been on a plane in a while, especially not one to Europe.” Bellamy freezes for a moment, because can pregnant women travel on a plane? He doesn’t even know if Clarke is pregnant, but would an airplane cause a problem? “Bellamy, if there was something seriously wrong, I’d let you know.”

He relaxes a bit as she drops her head to his shoulder. “I know,” he replies quietly, truly believing that. “I just worry, you know that.”

Clarke grins a bit and tilts her head to kiss him softly. “You worry more than the average person, Bell.” He chuckles a bit and turns her head to kiss her cheek a few times, and then her lips, like he does every night. Even on an airplane.

“Love you,” he whispers, and she grins a bit, her eyes finally closing.

“Love you too,” she whispers back, and he drapes the blanket over her, knowing that she can’t sleep unless she’s covered with something. Bellamy settles into his seat and rests his head on Clarke’s, and wills himself to sleep.

It doesn’t really work, and by the time they’re landing in Amsterdam he’s been awake around twenty-four hours. Clarke doesn’t look much better, but he knows that she at least got a few hours of sleep.

The chaos of trying to find their hotel for the week is the only thing that keeps them both awake. Bellamy’s been overseas once before, and he knows that Clarke has too, but Amsterdam is a new city and a new place to learn.

It’s around noon when they finally find their hotel, and they collapse onto bed together. Their bags stand in a pile near the window and the sounds from the streets below reach them softly. Clarke yawns and Bellamy struggles to keep his eyes open. “We can’t go to sleep,” he murmurs, his fingers cording through Clarke’s hair lightly. “Jetlag fucking sucks but we need to stay awake for at least a few more hours.”

“Just a little nap,” she mumbles, her fingers curling into Bellamy’s shirt. He can’t find it within him to resist.

“Ugh,” he grumbles, his hand flailing out for his phone on the table. “Fine. Just a couple hours, then we’re getting up.”

She just hums into his neck, and then she’s gone, already dropped off into sleep. He follows quickly, after pulling the blanket over them.

* * *

 

Two days later, Bellamy finally snaps.

Clarke hasn’t had a sip of alcohol since they’ve been in Amsterdam. He’s going fucking _nuts_. They’re at a quiet little pub on the outskirts of the city, and Bellamy stares at her glass of water like it’s going to break. His fingers are tapping on the table as Clarke grins at a picture of him that she took this morning. “Y’know, Bell,” she starts, swiping to look at another picture. “I think you’re the most photogenic person I’ve ever met.”

“That so?” He asks, but it’s clear that he’s distracted. She raises a brow, and he swallows his panic. “I think you win that award, baby.”

“Sap,” she says with a smile, and he manages one back. It’s quiet for another minute and Bellamy can feel the question building, he can feel the words almost leaving his mouth, but— “Bellamy, can—”

“Are you pregnant?” He blurts, and Clarke’s eyes snap to his.

It’s like everything is frozen for a minute as she stares at him, her jaw dropped a bit. “What?” She finally asks, and Bellamy swallows nervously.

“I—are you pregnant?”

Clarke blinks a few times, and then puts her phone down. “I—” Fuck, here it is. “No. I’m—why do you think I’m pregnant?”

Fuck, now he’s been backed into a corner and he can’t answer this without sounding stupid with whatever answer he gives her. Her brows are furrowed and he feels like he’s going to vomit. “I,” Bellamy clears his throat and looks anywhere but his girlfriend. “I kind of found something I wasn’t supposed to?”

“Bellamy,” she warns, and he hurries to finish the story.

Words fall from him like rain on an April day. “I found the test in the bathroom at the wedding and you haven’t been feeling well and then you haven’t had a drop of alcohol since the day of the wedding and—”

“Bellamy,” Clarke says quietly, but he keeps going.

“—and I just kept thinking what if you were pregnant? How am I supposed to react? Am I supposed to be happy? Or anxious? And like, obviously I’d be anxious because it’d be my kid inside of my girlfriend but then I’d also be happy because it’d be our kid, and then all I could think about is—"

“Bellamy.”

He finally takes a breath, and turns his panicked eyes to Clarke. She’s giving him a look that he can’t decipher and the panic builds in his chest again. “Yeah?”

“I’m not pregnant,” she finally tells him gently, and he doesn’t know how he feels. Relief, sure. But also a fair bit of disappointment, if he’s being honest. Clarke chews at her lip and Bellamy continues to stare at her. “Do—” she takes another breath. “Do you want me to be pregnant?”

Bellamy thinks about it for a moment, knowing that his answer could affect pretty much everything, Then, he’s hit with a stroke of genius. He clears his throat and slips his hand into his pocket. “I mean,” he starts, feeling around for the box. “I would be fucking ecstatic if you were pregnant, Clarke.”

She raises a brow, her fingers drumming on the table with nervous energy. “But?”

Bellamy takes a breath. Now or never. “But I think we should get married before we have a baby.”

Clarke rolls her eyes a bit and takes a sip of her water. “My mother would be _appalled_ if I had a baby out of wedlock…” she starts and Bellamy slides the box across the table. Her voice drops off quickly and she stares at it for a moment. “Bellamy.”

“Open it,” he urges quietly, fighting to keep his smile off of his face.

“Bellamy Blake.”

“Open it.”

And she does. Clarke lets out a quiet _oh_ when she sees the ring, and then she blinks quickly. “Bellamy,” she whispers, her voice sounding very small in her throat. “Are you—are you sure?”

“Never been more sure about anything,” he whispers back, finally moving so he’s in front of her on his knee. Bellamy grips her hands tightly and lets out a shaky laugh. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Clarke Griffin. I want to own a house with you, I love our apartment but let’s be real, we’re going to outgrow it soon enough. I want to get a dog with you, because we’d have _so_ much fun with a dog. And I want to have kids with you, but only two because we couldn’t handle more than two miniature versions of ourselves. I just wanna have this experience with you, and only you.”

She lets out a shaky breath and her eyes dart between the ring and his face. “You’re a goddamn sap,” Clarke finally laughs, her voice filled with unshed tears and happiness. “I love you so much.”

Bellamy smiles a bit and plucks the ring from the box slowly. “So? What do you say? Will you marry me, Clarke?”

She stares at him for a moment, before nodding and laughing. She pulls him up to kiss him, not caring that they’re sitting outside in the middle of plain view. Bellamy tries to kiss her, but they’re both smiling so much that it doesn’t work very well. He doesn’t care because he _just proposed to his girlfriend_ and she said _yes_. Immense joy floods through him, filling his every crevice. Elation is nearly radiating off of him, and he doesn’t think he’s ever going to stop smiling.

Clarke’s arms wrap tightly around his neck and she laughs into his ear. Bellamy pulls back a bit and shakily slides the ring onto her finger. She stares at it for a moment, and then gives him the gentlest of kisses. “Do you like it?” Bellamy murmurs and she nods quickly, finally swiping at her eyes. Bellamy thumbs away the stray tear on her cheek and kisses it lightly.

“I love it, Bellamy,” she whispers. “It’s perfect.”

“I’ve had it since August,” he admits quietly, and Clarke’s eyes snap to his. “I went with Raven one day and she helped.”

“You’ve had it since August and you didn’t say anything?” She scolds lightly, but it’s clear that there’s no malice in her voice.

“It was too soon—”

Clarke laughs again, nosing into his cheek. “Bellamy you could’ve asked me in June and I would’ve said yes.” He pulls back quickly, and tips his head in question. “I’m serious. I would marry you any day.”

Bellamy’s grin transforms into a smile, and he kisses her, saying everything that he can’t get out in words. She smiles into the kiss, her (ringed) hand resting on his cheek lightly. She pulls back first, her eyes still filled with unshed happy tears and a cheek-splitting smile on her face. “Hey. I love you.”

“I love you, too, you dork,” Bellamy grins, finally moving back to his own seat. He can’t stop looking at her, can’t stop his eyes from flashing to the ring that now adorns her hand. They’re going to get married. They’re gonna have a wedding… speaking of weddings. “Hey. So if you aren’t pregnant then who is?”

Clarke jerks her eyes to his and she chews at her lip to hide a smile. “I’m not really sure if I’m supposed to tell you,” she admits, and Bellamy rolls his eyes.

“I just proposed to you,” he hums with a grin.

His now-fiancée smiles sheepishly at him. “I really can’t tell you. I’d tell you if I could, but I think it’s still early and she has someone else to tell first.”

Bellamy groans but accepts that answer, reaching across the table to hold her hand. “Fine. I’ll find out soon enough. If you were pregnant you’d tell me?”

“Of course I would tell you,” she says, grinning. “You’d be the first to know.” 

* * *

 

Later that night they’re lounging in their bed at their hotel. They’ve just finished celebratory sex, and Clarke is beyond satisfied with everything that’s happened today. Her heads on Bellamy’s chest, he’s playing with her left hand and she’s happy. She hasn’t been this happy _ever_.

“How long do you think we can keep it from them?” Bellamy murmurs, and Clarke snorts.

“I bet they had a spreadsheet on this one, too.”

Bellamy laughs and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Hey,” he whispers. “You’re gonna be my wife.”

Clarke grins and turns to him, her chin resting on his pectoral. “And you’re gonna be my husband.” She pauses for a moment, and worries her lip. “Can I keep my last name?”

Bellamy nods quickly, tugging her closer. “Honestly Clarke, I suspected you’d keep your last name. It’s who you are, and I don’t want to take that from you just because some tradition says I have to. I don’t mind.”

She nods again, gratefulness swelling in her chest. Not that she doesn’t love his last name but… her last name is hers. She wants to keep it. However… “Our kids can be Blake’s, though.”

His eyebrows lift up and he struggles to keep the smile off of his face. “Yeah?” Clarke nods again, her smile brightening as she thinks about having kids with Bellamy. “God, you’re fucking incredible.”

She’s about to reply when Bellamy’s phone dings, and his brows pull together. “Who the hell is awake back home right now?”

Clarke turns to glance at the clock while he reaches for his phone. “I mean, it is close to 2 am here, so someone’s gotta be up at home.”

Bellamy opens his phone and they peer at it together. “Oh my god.”

Murphy has zoomed in on one of the pictures they sent a few hours ago. He’s screenshotted the picture right where Clarke’s hand is, and the caption: **is that a ring I see**

“How the hell did he see that?” Bellamy grumbles, squinting at the picture. “I can’t even see that!”

Clarke laughs and kisses his cheek. “You do have shitty eyesight,” she says, and he scoffs. “Here. Do you just want to tell them?”

Bellamy raises a brow. “You sure?”

Clarke nods. “Yeah. I’m sure. They’re our friends, I want them to know.” Bellamy nods with a grin and holds up his phone.

“Hold out your hand,” he murmurs, and she does. Bellamy snaps a picture of her outstretched hand, and he can’t keep the smile off of his face as he looks at it. Bellamy sends it quickly before setting his phone back down.

“Don’t you want to see what they have to say?”

Bellamy’s eyes shine and he settles further into the bed, pulling the covers over them. “I know what they’re going to say. Jasper will send incoherent screaming, Miller’s gonna say that he’s known, and Murphy’s probably gonna ask for money. And my Raven’s gonna say that she’s unsurprised, and that she predicted this from the start.”

Clarke laughs again as he kisses her cheek a few times, and then her lips. “I love you, Clarke.”

She curls her body into his side, and throws an arm over his waist to get comfortable. “I love you too, Bellamy.”

And sure enough the next morning their predictions are true. But Octavia’s response is her favorite: **aren’t u glad Bellamy had an extra room?**

Clarke is so, so glad he did. They wouldn’t be here right now. She wouldn’t be this happy, and she wouldn’t be with the love of her life, the person that brings out the best in her. She wouldn’t have Bellamy.

His smile that morning is more than enough reassurance for her, the happiness instilled in his kisses sends hope and excitement for the future through her. She’s so lucky, and it’s all because of that extra room in an apartment with someone she couldn’t stand at the time. Look where they are now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, i hope you loved it!
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clxrkeblxke or twitter @saucybellamy!

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated! Come talk to me on tumblr @clrxkeblxke!


End file.
